Broken Heart, Broken Mind
by alittlegreenrosetta
Summary: Harleen Quinzel's husband died five year ago so why was his face covered in clown make up and staring back at her from the evening news? Takes place immediately after the events of The Dark Knight. Part one in a series.
1. Chapter 1

_"This is the way that I remember you_  
 _The colors all blend into blue"_

 _Blend Into Blue, Carloman_

Harleen Quinzel was not normally interested in watching the news, in fact she actively avoided it even though a small part of her felt guilty for not keeping up with current events. Tonight she would have moved past it for something more light hearted if she hadn't heard the words "Arkham Asylum" when she flipped though the channels. As a recent doctoral graduate in Psychology she was preparing her resumes and considering working at various mental health facilities. Arkham Asylum was not one on her list because as far as she knew it no longer housed patients. In fact that is what caught her attention, she was almost sure that the facility had been closed years ago. She looked down at her remote to increase the volume and when she looked back up what she saw shocked her. It was him, it was Jack. They were calling him the Joker and there was something about explosives and ferries. She couldn't follow it, her mind was still trying to process seeing his face again. It was covered in clown make up but it looked so much like him. That was impossible though, Jack was dead. He'd been dead for five years. By now her brain had shaken off the shock a bit and was trying to understand what was going on but the picture was gone. Instead there was some related story involving a vigilante dressed as a bat. What the hell was happening in Gotham? Metropolis had its share of weird but nothing compared to this. It was clear that they weren't going to show the picture of the Joker again and she knew of course that it couldn't possibly be Jack but she had to see his face again and find the little differences that would prove it to her heart.

She quickly pulled her laptop over from the other side of the sofa and searched for the Joker, eventually finding a large clear photo. The eyes, they were Jack's eyes. They were obscured by layers of black grease paint but she'd know them anywhere, she'd looked into them thousands of times. Maybe it was a coincidence. This man looked older than Jack, even more than the five years that had passed since he died. His features were generally the same but Jack had a good natured and happy countenance and this person looked, well, evil was the only word she could find to describe it. Then she looked closer and realized that she had to be staring into the face of her long dead husband because while she could imagine someone else having eyes just like Jack's there was no way that someone with Jack's eyes could also have those. The scars. When she thought of them she reached up and touched the sides of her mouth where her own scars were. Oh hers were nothing like his. Maybe they would have been if she had stitched hers up herself and left them to heal like that but Harleen had spent thousands of dollars on cosmetic surgery and now hers were fine white lines that you could only really see if you looked very closely or if she spent too much time in the sun and tanned her face. It was Jack. He was alive. And he was obviously very sick. Still. Staring into his mad face she couldn't help but remember the day he lost his mind, she was after all right there to see it happen.

It had been seven years ago but it felt like a lifetime. The day before it happened Harleen was leaving her first obstetrical visit and she was experiencing pure joy. She was six weeks pregnant. The timing was perfect. She was nearing her last semester of her undergraduate work. The baby was due a month after graduation and that would give her two months maternity leave before she started her graduate work in her first choice program. School was great, her marriage to Jack was wonderful and now to top it all off a baby. They hadn't been trying exactly, more like hoping nature would take advantage of this window of opportunity and their natural passion for one another. Jack and Harleen had a sickeningly sweet love story up until this point. They met when they were seventeen and it was love at first sight. Since then they were inseparable. They were each other's first loves and even though people thought they were crazy they got married right after high school. Other couples they knew who got together so young had long since broken up but every day for them was sweeter than the one before. They didn't have much money but they were happy. After high school they couldn't really afford to both go to college so they made a plan. Jack was brilliant but unfocused, he didn't really know what he wanted to do or study. Harleen had wanted to be a psychologist since she was fourteen years old and realized her dreams of being an Olympic gymnast were never going to happen. So Harleen would go to college while Jack worked and then after she was done with school it was Jack's turn to pursue whatever it was he had decided he wanted to do.

When they suspected Harleen was pregnant they were happy and when the over the counter test confirmed it they were overjoyed. Jack had even been given a promotion at his job so he said they'd soon have more money coming in. The timing couldn't be better. He'd be thrilled to hear how her appointment went, she'd call him as soon as she got in the car. With her thoughts consumed by Jack and the baby, Harleen wasn't really paying attention to her surroundings as she floated towards her car. Suddenly rough hands were grabbing her and pulling her into a dark corner of the parking garage. She only managed a small scream before her mouth was covered.

"Keep your mouth shut and you might just live through this. Now I'm gonna take my hand away and you're not gonna scream are you?" A large angry looking man said to her while someone she couldn't see held her arms behind her back. She nodded immediately when she saw he had a knife. There was also something hard sticking into her side that she suspected might be a gun. Oh god, were these men going to rape her?

"Good, you're a smart lady. Now we're gonna hurt you but how cooperative you are determines how bad we hurt you. You see your husband's been doing some things we don't like too well and we need to leave him a little message"

"M-m-my husband? I think you've made a mistake, Jack wouldn't have done anything wrong!" Harleen stammered out, she was frightened but she was sure this was all a mistake and hoped that she was actually going to get out of this unharmed.

"We know exactly who your husband is Ms. Quinzel. Didn't tell you what he did to move up at work did he? He took some things that don't belong to him and he crossed the wrong people so now he needs to learn a little lesson about who runs this town."

"Jack wouldn't take anything, he works in security."

"Yeah, security for the Morello gang but after his job the other day he's moving up into management."

"What? No, that can't be right. Jack wouldn't do anything illegal, he's not a gangster!" She insisted.

"Sorry you gotta find out this way sister but it's the truth. Now you been a good girl so I'm just gonna hurt you a little but it's gonna be something that will make sure old Jackie boy never forgets not to fuck with the Mannheims again. I'm gonna give you a nice big smile that's gonna drive the message home real good." And with that he came at her with the knife and sliced both sides of her mouth out into an exaggerated bloody smile. His knife was so sharp that she didn't even start screaming with pain until he was done.

"That's alright lady, we're done, scream all you want now" The one behind her said into her ear as he tossed her to the ground and they ran off before anyone could come along.

That's how she was found, screaming and bleeding alone in a parking garage. Fortunately the medical plaza her doctor's appointment had been in was attached to a hospital and within half an hour she was numb and stitched up and talking with a police officer. She didn't know if anything they said about Jack was true or not but she couldn't take the chance that he would get in trouble somehow so she left all mention of him out of it, in fact she told the police that the men never said anything at all to her. As the police were leaving that's when the cramping started. The pain in her abdomen was subtle at first, like a menstrual cramp but it quickly escalated and before she could even get a nurse's attention she felt a gush of warm liquid between her legs; she knew without looking it would be blood. She was losing the baby. The stress on her body, the emotional shock so early in the pregnancy, they said, was too much. She couldn't help but blame Jack for the baby. Oddly she didn't really care about her face, she hadn't looked in the mirror yet but she knew there was no way it looked as damaged as her heart felt right now. Funny how just an hour ago she'd been so happy and now it seemed like things couldn't get worse. She was so very wrong about that.

When Jack arrived at the hospital they had her sedated, she had been crying so hysterically that she was pulling out her stitches so they did what they could to calm her down. She wasn't asleep but she was floating in and out of awareness.

"Oh god, Harley, what have they done to you!" Jack exclaimed when he saw her. The nurse quickly started speaking to Jack in such a low tone Harleen couldn't make out what she was saying. Probably telling him about the baby because immediately after the nurse stopped speaking Harleen heard Jack sob loudly. He didn't say anything else to her just leaned against the wall with his face hidden under his hands sobbing. The nurse left the room so they could be alone in their misery.

"They said it was a message for you Jack, do you understand what they meant by that? Because I didn't really, I told them they were making a mistake but they wouldn't listen to me. And they scared the baby away, away, away. Back to heaven or a cabbage patch or wherever babies go to when they aren't here with their mommies and daddies." Harleen drifted off briefly after she said that. When she was aware of being back in the room Jack was gripping her arms and saying something to her. Apologizing. Why was Jack sorry? Oh right, he made the bad men come and the bad men took away their baby. After that she finally went to sleep. Vague memories of waking up in their car and then in her own bed floated around in her mind but for the most part she slept and felt nothing in her medicated limbo.


	2. Chapter 2

_"I keep feelin' I've been framed_  
 _You stitch me up now I'm tailor made"_

 _Don't Talk to Me, The Boomtown Rats_

Harleen finally woke up the next day, or was it night? It was November and the days were getting short, she couldn't tell if it was before sunrise or after the sun had already set. She was alone in her bed and the sides of her mouth burned intensely. Her head also ached, probably dehydration from all the crying and blood loss. Then she realized there was a dull ache in her abdomen and remembering why that was caused tears to well up in her eyes. She knew it was natural to be sad for the loss of their child and of course upset about the assault but she felt like something else had been cut up and killed yesterday, her trust and belief in the man she loved. He'd told her this whole time he was working as a security officer for a corporation. He never wanted her to come see him at work but that seemed perfectly normal, she wasn't really thrilled to have him visit her on campus after all. They got so caught up in each other when they were together it was like the rest of the world didn't exist and that wasn't really conducive to a work environment, especially when it's your job to keep things secure. But he hadn't been working security at all or maybe he had for a while and then left the job. She didn't really know. She thought she knew everything about Jack and now to find out how much was going on that she could never have even imagined. She knew the only thing to do was talk to Jack and try to figure out what was really going on but she couldn't even stand the thought of looking at him right now.

As though on cue he chose that moment to walk into the room. He looked exhausted, like he'd been up all night. His normally golden brown curls were dark and limp as though he hadn't showered in a couple of days. He was carrying a glass of water and a bottle of pills. He had put a straw in the glass, still thoughtful even if the rest was all a lie. He sat on the bed as far from her as he could while still being able to hand her the pain medication. They could always read each other so well and he knew she didn't want him to touch her right now.

"You need to take this for the pain, every six hours for the first couple of days they said. After that they want you to switch to over the counter stuff." He said quietly while handing her the pill. It was Hydrocodone, at least she could count on sleeping a lot the next day or two. That was good, better than being awake and confronting this head on.

"Do you want to talk about anything now or…. I mean I know we need to talk but I know your mouth must hurt too." Harleen looked up from the bedspread she had been staring a hole into just long enough to take the water from him and noticed the skin on his knuckles was bruised and bleeding. Did he punch a wall in anger or did he go out and find the guys that did this to her? While pondering that she realized her gaze had gone up to his face and not wanting to risk eye contact she quickly looked down at the water. She wasn't ready for him to see the pain and anger in her eyes.

"The pill is going to knock me out again so maybe talking isn't best right now and yeah, my mouth really hurts. Just tell me one thing though, is it true? Are you really some sort of gangster?" She asked without looking up.

He sighed. "Yeah, it's true. This is all my fault. We just needed more money than I could bring in with any of the jobs I could find so I started working for the Morellos. Nothing big, the pay was better than anything else I could find but the work was still mostly legal. Then with the baby, we were going to need so much more. I mean working for the Morellos is steady but they don't exactly have an insurance plan for their employees. I knew I needed to bring in more, work my way up. I'm not connected like the other guys so I had to do something big, something that made a statement. If I had any idea that this would get you hurt of course I wouldn't have done it. God Harley, how am I supposed to live with having done this to you?" She could hear the pain in his voice but compared to her pain it seemed hollow.

"So this really was your fault. Or no I guess it was my fault, mine and the baby's because we needed money. If you had just told me it wasn't the right time. We could have waited, waited until we could afford it. I wouldn't be sitting here with an ache in my stomach from losing our baby and my face sewn up like some sort of monster." She didn't mean to get angry with him but with every word her voice got louder and more confrontational.

"No Harley, it was my fault, all of it. I'm so sorry. I know there is nothing I can do to make up for it. I know you probably hate me right now but I promise you I hate myself more. If it helps at all the guys that did this to you won't ever do anything like this again. And you don't look like a monster, you're beautiful, always so beautiful." She still wasn't looking at him as he spoke but felt him gently stroking her hair while he said the last bit. She wanted to flinch away from him, just to hurt him, but she couldn't. She automatically leaned in to his touch even though he was right, she did hate him right now. She knew that was just a passing emotion, she could never really hate Jack.

"What do you mean they won't do anything like this again? What did you do Jack?" And now she had to look into his eyes, had to know what kind of vengeance he had wrought in her name. There was something there that wasn't there before. Something dark in his formerly happy warm eyes. He'd killed those men, she didn't know how she knew but she was sure he did. With her realization she gasped and looked away from him as quickly as she could. He didn't answer her, just stood up and walked to the door.

"Try to get some rest, I'll bring you something to eat with your next pill." And with that he was gone and she had no choice but to lay back and let the tears run down her face until the medicine forced her into unconsciousness.

Harleen slept fitfully for an hour or two until she was just too hungry to stay asleep. She couldn't even guess how many hours it had been since her last meal. Of course chewing with her stitches would probably be a problem though they didn't hurt so much now thanks to the pain medication.

"Jack. Jack, can you get me something to eat?" She called out but she couldn't raise her voice, the pull of the stitches at the sides of her mouth keeping her tone too low to be heard outside of the room. Oh well, no reason she couldn't get up, no one had injured her legs after all. She thought they maybe had some soup in the pantry. She was a bit light headed at first but after a minute or two of sitting up she was ok to stand. She walked through their small apartment calling Jack's name quietly as she went. She was looking for him and not down at her feet so it wasn't until she came to the light colored tile in the kitchen that she realized there was a pool of blood. She immediately worried that Jack had been injured. Looking around for any sign of him in the living room or kitchen area she noticed that there was also a bloody knife on the counter and the pool of blood drifted into a trail leading to the small guest bathroom near their front door. Jack must be hurt and had gone in there for the first aid kit. It seemed like a lot of blood though and he still wasn't answering her when she called. The door was closed. She knocked lightly afraid of what she might find behind the door. Her concern for her husband was battling her fear of this new violent idea of him that she had yet to fully understand.

"Just a minute hon, I'm almost done!" Jack called cheerfully from behind the door. He sounded perfectly fine, better than he'd sounded since before everything happened. But if he was ok then why was there so much blood?

Suddenly he pulled the door open and filled the doorway with his tall, thin frame. She looked up at him to ask about the blood but before she could form the question she saw his face. He was smiling at her but it was so red. Then she realized he had sliced up his own mouth just like the thugs had done to her. He had sewn them up with thread from her sewing kit. She could see all the bits and bobs strewn across the vanity behind him. Blood still seeped through the string and the act of sewing up his own flesh had made the stitches jagged and erratic. She took in a gasping breath and then looked into his eyes. Jack wasn't there any more, he was gone. She'd seen eyes like that a dozen times in her undergrad work, it was a look of a person in a state of madness. Jack had gone insane and the man she loved was nowhere to be seen.

That brought Harleen back to the present. Those same mad eyes were staring back at her from the computer screen except now there was a malevolence in them that wasn't there before. She wanted to rush to him and find out what was going on, how he had faked his own death and why he had turned into some sort of terrorist. She knew he might not give her any answers, the Jack she knew may be alive in body but in spirit she was sure he was gone. Her Jack could never have stayed away from her for five years. The news report had mentioned Arkham Asylum because it was being reopened just to house such a terrible madman. He was too crazy and dangerous to even let him near other people who were criminally insane. Somehow Harleen had to get a job at Arkham. They had made a vow to be together for better or worse. There was no stipulation about how much worse.


	3. Chapter 3

_"If I could make the world as pure and strange as what I see,_  
 _I'd put you in the mirror,_  
 _I put in front of me."_

 _Pale Blue Eyes, The Velvet Underground_

Six weeks later Dr. Harleen Quinzel found herself walking the halls of Arkham Asylum for the first time. It had been far easier than she expected to become the Joker's therapist. Of course it might have been more difficult if he hadn't already killed or injured ten other doctors. The board of directors were trying to push through special orders that allowed them to keep the Joker without providing him any treatment beyond seeing to his basic living and health needs but until that passed they were still required to provide him with some sort of therapy overseen by a qualified psychologist. At first people clamored for the chance to take on the case, he was after all the most famous and least understood lunatic around. Then he had beaten his first doctor to death. After that the crowd to treat him began to thin. The least anyone had gotten away with so far was a broken arm and small stab wound. Harleen's request to treat him was met with enthusiasm despite her recent graduation. The pay was also higher than she expected and the cynical part of her couldn't help but think that it was because they didn't plan on her living long enough to collect her paycheck. She should probably worry about the same thing but no matter how changed he was she didn't believe that Jack would just kill her quickly without at least talking to her a bit. Or torturing her, it was quite likely he was still very angry with her for what she did.

The room she was to meet the Joker in was located right before his cell. Because the Joker was the only patient in the entire facility they kept everything near him in the maximum security wing including a makeshift kitchen and infirmary. Her office was a fairly small and cheerless room just outside the wing, nearer to her patient that she would have expected. If he ever decided to escape he'd have a pretty easy time killing everyone in the building on his way out the door. She hadn't been allowed to bring anything into the room except a pen and pad of paper. Arkham had its last technology update sometime in the mid-fifties so there was no recording equipment in the room. No one really cared if she made progress with the man anyway so recording it would have been a waste of time. The expectation for her was to provide the legally required therapy session and do her best to stay alive. Harleen felt she had at least as good a chance to do this as anyone. So she sat at the bolted down metal table in a bolted down metal chair. Within a few minutes the Joker was dragged into the room and chained to bolts on the floor and table across from her by two large guards. They took no care to be gentle and his restraints looked tight enough to cut off circulation. She felt bad for him but knew from past experience that anything looser than this was so easy for him to escape from it was a waste of time to even put it on him. They sat there facing each other silently until the guards left and the sound proof door was closed.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Doctor Harleen Quinzel! I see no one else was able to get you to change that terrible maiden name of yours." He asked with a chuckle. His laughter raised the hair on the back of her neck. It was a confusing feeling, pleasurable and terrible at the same time.

"If that's your subtle way of asking if I remarried the answer is no." Being this near him for the first time in so long was making her feel light headed. The asylum had stripped him of his make-up and without it caked into his every line and wrinkle he looked closer to the thirty years old she knew him to be. The scars looked terrible, jagged lines marring what was still a handsome face. His eyes looked more like the warm brown she remembered without the black accenting their darkness. The green dye had faded and his hair was its natural color again. He looked like Jack but he felt like a stranger. Now there was cruelty in the way he moved his mouth and the way he narrowed his eyes while looking at her.

"Tsk, tsk; I thought for sure you'd be all married up and chasing around a few _rug rats_ by now" He growled out the words rug rats as though speaking of actual vermin. "I mean, uh, wasn't that the plan Harleen?"

"Plans change as you know, Jack." It wasn't a witty reply but she was fighting hard to stay calm and not let her feelings about seeing him again weaken her. This wasn't really Jack, not the Jack she knew and she had to be careful.

"They must have given you the wrong paper work, Doc. My name's Joker. Jack's dead and if you call me by a dead man's name again you will be too. Understand?" Without giving her time to answer he continued. "Now I know how you women are, always wanting to talk about _feelings_ and _relationships._ I gotta say Doc, I find all that shit boring as hell. But I like you, I think you've got potential so I'm going to give you a little present. Would you like that?"

"Y-yes?" She hadn't meant for it to sound like a question but she was truly frightened by the idea of what the Joker might consider a present.

"Well now, don't sound so excited! You'll like it better when you know what it is, I feel absolutely certain of _that_." Joker was now smacking his lips when he talked, a habit Harleen didn't remember from the man she knew before. Must be something new.

"I'm going to give you fifteen minutes to talk about the past. Normally I would never, uh bother. You see my mind is a little fuzzy about the past, too much shock therapy probably." A pointed look in her direction caused her face to heat up. "But like I said, you've got _po-ten-tial_ , we just need to get all this boring obsession with the past out of your system. After the fifteen minutes are up we don't talk about it ever again, got it? Annnd your time starts _now_. Ask me anything."

"Ok, Ja-Joker, why did you fake your death?" It was really the only question that mattered. Where he'd been, what he'd been doing, things like that would just lead to more pain. It couldn't have been anything good if this was the person he had become.

"Oh, I didn't fake my death. Like I said before Doc, Jack is dead. You've got to _listen_ if you want us to keep getting along so, ah, nicely. What you really want to know is why did Jack die, isn't it?" He paused long enough for her to give him a small nod.

"Well you see Doc, he had this beautiful wife; blonde hair, blue eyes, built just so. Once upon a time they had a happy life and then it all came crashing down. The beautiful wife got hurt real bad. He tried to make it better, tried to make her laugh again but _she just didn't get the joke_. Instead she dumped him. Now most guys would say that and mean she walked out but not his sweetie bear, oh no. She dumped him in an insane asylum. Said his laughing all day was driving her mad. If she just understood the joke they would have laughed together but she didn't get it and a joke isn't funny if you have to explain it. So it was off to the loony bin for old Jack. And there the doctors, oh they did _terrible_ things. They gave him drugs that made him feel like he was drowning but he fooled them, he learned to swim. They restrained him, locked him up but he learned how to escape from anything they could put him in. Finally they started the shocks. That he couldn't figure out a way to overcome so bit by bit it killed him. Every jolt took away a few more memories, a few more feelings. And who are we without our memories, Doc? So old Jackie had to go, he left it all behind. Left _me_ behind, someone new, the Joker. And now the only proof he ever existed are those two little white lines on the sides of your mouth. How'd they get so faint and hard to see Harleen?" During his story he became increasingly agitated and his mannerisms became more odd and inhuman. His shoulders hunched and his eyes rolled up a bit like he was creating the story out of thin air. Most of what he said wasn't true, she knew it wasn't true but it must have seemed true to him and for that she felt her heart break once again. She fought the tears that threatened to fall. Hoping to get her emotions under control she decided to answer his last question.

"I didn't want to be reminded of what happened. I preferred to think about happier times, about our lives before that day. I found a good cosmetic surgeon and now they aren't the first thing anyone notices about me."

"Funny, these days they aren't the first thing anyone notices about me either. Hee hee. Cosmetic surgery huh, bet that was hard to pay for on a grad student's stipend. Or did you find some extra work that paid generously. Used your _assets_. Bet Jack's not the only one to have gotten their hands on those assets anymore." He leered with the last comment but still managed to make it seem hateful rather than suggestive.

"No, there have been other hands thank you but I didn't go pro if that's what you are insinuating. I'm sure you haven't gone untouched either." She scoffed.

"Well you'd be wrong there, _lover_. I've found that relationships aren't all they're cracked up to be. Turns out you can't really count on anyone to stand by you in the end." He turned his face to the side as though there was suddenly something fascinating on the other wall. Perhaps the Joker still had some emotions left despite how he was portrayed.

"Why do you keep saying that, that I left you? You have to know that isn't true." It wasn't. Putting him in the hospital had been a last resort after he cut his face. For three days after that he wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. All he would do was laugh a loud, sickly, hoarse laugh. Nothing she said or did got through to him. Finally she had called for help but she still visited him every day she was allowed. Not that he noticed. They finally stopped him from laughing with the third sedative they tried, he had an oddly high tolerance for psychotropic medications and one after another they stopped working. He had learned to get out of his restraints, often injuring himself in the process and she had been there each day approving his treatments and signing off on his paperwork. When electro shock therapy was recommended it had truly seemed like a last resort and as difficult as it was to see him go through it she was there. For two years she was there each step of the way and now he sat there accusing her of abandoning him. For the first time in his presence she stopped feeling uneasy and got angry. Without thinking of her own safety she found herself getting up and marching over to where he was staring so he'd have to look at her. He shifted his eyes to the floor instead.

"I was there nearly every day. I was there when I was trying to recover from being assaulted and from the loss of our child. I was there while I was trying to reconcile the actions I was witnessing with the person I had known for so long. Every day I watched you get further and further away from me and I lost hope that I'd ever have the man I loved back but I still showed up. I never left you. You left me. And then you let me think you were dead all these years! I mourned you. I still mourn you. You lied to me! I was so happy, I loved you so much and we were going to have a baby and then I found out you lied, that it was all lies and I lost everything. I lost every good thing in my life. And look at me, I'm still fucking here for you!" Her cheeks were red and she was panting by the end of her speech. There was no point in holding back the tears now, she'd lost control completely. The Joker had kept his head down looking at the floor in front of her during her entire speech. She noticed now that his body was shaking and he was making some sort of sound. Was he crying? Suddenly he threw back his head and cackled loudly. He was laughing, of course he was.

"Do you get it now kid, do you finally get the joke?" He asked through his hysterics.

She stopped sobbing and thought about what he had just said. It was funny in a way. She'd had a plan, always a plan for her life. And it had worked, things went along just perfectly until that day. Suddenly everything was smashed to pieces and she had hoped for years that if she tried hard enough that all the pieces would fit back together again but they never could. It was funny. Like she was trying to put together a puzzle with pieces from more than one box. It was never going to fit, it would never be whole again. And what a fool she was to keep trying. It was kind of hilarious. Without realizing it she had joined in the Joker's laughter. Maybe he wasn't so crazy after all.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Take refuge in pleasure_  
 _Just give me your future_  
 _We'll forget your past"_

 _Mother of Pearl, Roxy Music_

Eventually their laughter died down and left them staring at each other in amusement. It suddenly felt awkward to Harleen so she turned to go back to her seat while a blush crept into her cheeks.

"Alright, Doc, you're time is almost up. Anything else you want to talk about, or are you ready to say good bye to the past for good?"

It was a good question, was she ready to say good bye? She had already said good bye to Jack five years ago and yet her love for him would always be there, be a part of her. It was only seeing the Joker that had cracked open the door to the past and now she knew, this wasn't Jack. There was nothing else he could tell her about Jack that she didn't know. Now she needed to decide what her relationship with the Joker would be. She'd gotten all she had come for but she found herself hesitant to leave. Perhaps it was his physical similarities to the only man she had ever loved but she felt drawn to him. Should she stay and work with him as his therapist? It seemed unlikely that the Joker was really looking to embrace mental health much rather work towards it. Still she wouldn't mind trying to understand him better, what his motivations were though she wasn't sure how good that would be for her own mental health. If your husband became a vampire should you surround yourself with garlic and crosses or offer up your neck?

She knew the smart thing to do would be to leave, move across the country and just start a whole new life for herself. Harleen had been making the smart choice for years. The smart choice was what lead to her ill-fated life plan and all this misery. Now she was going to follow her heart. She didn't know where it would take her but she felt confident it would be an exciting adventure. Maybe one that would end with violent death at a young age but that was more appealing to her right now than going back to her bare little life.

"No, that's enough. I think it's time to put it behind me for good." Harleen straightened her hair and then pulled her pen and pad towards her.

"Shall we begin our first session, Mr. Joker?"

"Why so, uh, formal, Doc? Mr. Joker was my father, you can just call me Joker." He said with a chuckle.

"How about a compromise? I could call you Mr. J, what do you think?" You didn't have to be a psychologist to figure out the reasoning for her choice. It wasn't Jack but it wasn't Joker either. The J could stand for either or both. Maybe she wasn't as ready to see him as a new person as she thought she was.

" _Mis-ter J_ " He considered, putting odd emphasis on each syllable and licking his lips. "I think I like it! It's got a nice ring to it. And what should I call you?"

"Doctor Quinzel? It is my name."

"Oh no, no, no, no no! Quinzel is a ridiculous name. How about Harleen? Not much better really. Harleen Quinzel…" He pondered while tapping a long finger against his lips. "I know, I'll call you _Harlequin_ , what do you think of that, Doc?"

"Like the character from the Commedia dell'arte?" Normally it would be a bad sign if a patient associated you with a clown but in this case it was quite the opposite. Joker associated her with himself, as a therapist this was an excellent sign. As a person it was a little frightening, he was a killer clown after all.

"How about if we make it Doctor Harlequin?" She asked with a giggle.

"You don't know how _refreshing_ it is to have a doctor with a sense of humor. I have spent the last two months surrounded by the most boring people you can imagine. I've had to make my own fun." He added a dramatic pout at the end.

"I'll do my best not to bore you." She said with another giggle. It wasn't professional but she couldn't help herself when she saw his pout.

"Let's talk about your treatment goals. I have a feeling you aren't really planning to work on any psychological issues, though we can of course."

"You're right, Doc. I think I'm just _guh-reat_ the way I am, don't you?" He responded while enthusiastically smacking his lips.

"Well to be honest Mr. J I don't really know you too well. I'd like to get to know you better, maybe even understand why you felt the need to do the things that put you in here. The board of directors is trying to get permission to stop providing you with treatment so I don't know how long we'll be able to have sessions but while I'm here I'd like to talk about whatever you like and also advocate for you with the board. I'm sure if you can cut down on the violence to the Arkham staff that we can improve conditions here for you."

"Oh but Doc, I like the violence _so_ much. What could possibly be worth giving that up?" He popped the last p for emphasis.

"Well better food for example or books. Maybe a TV?" Her sentence trailed off as she contemplated what the board might allow that the Joker would be interested it. So far she only knew his interests to include killing people or blowing things up.

"Oh treats, I see. If I'm a good little doggy I get num nums. Unfortunately I'm not very motivated by, uh, creature comforts, Doc."

"Well what would you like? I'm sure we can come up with something you'd like to change about your current situation."

"Grease paint, that's what I want. Get me that and I won't kill anyone. For a while anyway. Let's say... two weeks." He folded his hands and looked at her as though he was proud of how reasonable he was being and expected her to be pleased as well.

"Grease paint might be difficult to get them to agree to. It could be seen as supporting your delusions about yourself and your role in your crimes. I don't know if it's possible to get at all but I definitely think you'd have to cease all violence for a longer time period to show them you were serious about good behavior. Let's start with something smaller. There must be something else you'd like?"

"Well, Doc, there is just one thing I can think of. I want a visitor." Whatever he had in mind amused him greatly because he began cackling at the thought.

"A visitor?" Harleen frowned. It bothered her to think that the Joker might have someone he was close to, someone he wanted to see badly enough to control his violent tendencies. Was she jealous?

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Batman of course, who else? He is the closest thing to family I have in this whole wide world." The cackling became hysterical.

"I'm afraid that's impossible Mr. J., he's a wanted fugitive himself. I guess you haven't had access to the news to find that out." The Joker immediately stopped laughing and lunged forward as far as his chains would allow him, his face expressing keen interest in what she was saying.

"What was that? Gotham's hero is a fugitive? Now how _exactly_ did that happen?"

"Well he seems to have killed some people and had something to do with the death of Harvey Dent. I have to admit I don't know exactly what happened but I can get more information for you. If you'd like that is." Harleen looked down and picked at her skirt while answering him. She felt very foolish for not knowing the answer to something he was so interested in. It had been a pretty big news story and seemed tied up in the Joker's crimes too. Damn her fair skin, she was sure she was blushing again.

"You don't seem particularly well informed for a professional lady, uh, _Doctor Quinzel_." His tone clearly mocking her. "I would like to know more about it, bring me whatever you can find about it next time. I could use a _reliable_ news source."

"I'm sorry I don't know more about it Mr. J, I have to admit I don't keep up with the news. I just find it so depressing. Sometimes it's enough to make you lose faith in humanity."

"See that's exactly what you should do, Harlequin. I'd lose faith in humanity just as soon as you can possibly manage it. Talk about misplaced effort!" He shook his head as though surprised at her naivety.

"Then what do you have faith in, Mr. J?" Their first session was almost over but it would be good if she made some progress with him that she could discuss with the board if they asked.

"I have faith in chaos. I have faith in anarchy." He drummed his fingers on the table as though thinking very hard about whether there was anything else in this world worth having faith in. "Oh and Batman! I have faith in Batman."

"Faith in Batman? That seems odd since he was the one who put you in here." Why this fixation on Batman? And why was she feeling jealous again?

"I have faith that under all his expensive gadgets and fancy armor Batman is just like me. And I'm going to prove it, just you wait and see."

"You mean because you are both criminals in the eyes of the Gotham authorities?"

"Oh that's not why, Harlequin. They may say Batman killed someone but I know better. That's his one rule, he doesn't kill anyone. Now me, I know that the only sensible way to live in this world is to have no rules. That's all that separates me and the Bat. One _pointless_ little rule. And I'm going to change that, I'm going to make him break his rule. See, I promised him I would and I'm a man of my word." He licked his lips and then sat up taller in his chair. Before Harleen had a chance to ask him about his plan to make Batman break his rule the door opened with a loud clang and the guards were coming in and unchaining him from the table.

"Time's up for today Dr. Quinzel. You doing ok? Need any medical treatment?" One of the guards asked.

"No, I'm just fine thank you." She replied.

"See you next time, Harlequin." He gave her a wink and smile, she felt herself smiling back automatically.

"See you later Mr. J." Harleen called after him as the guards pulled him out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

_"I need to get away_  
 _Listen now to their hurting words_  
 _They rip and they do tear_  
 _Pushing out all of my hidden things"_

 _Dollhouse, Switchblade Symphony_

Harleen had barely made it to her car in the Arkham parking lot when her phone rang and displayed the number for Dr. Schultz, the man who had been the director of Arkham for many years and who had handled the process of hiring her.

"Hello, Dr. Schultz?" She answered.

"Well, Dr. Quinzel, I am certainly happy to hear your voice. Tom, the head guard, told me you had made it out of your session with the Joker without incident. You should be very pleased."

"Well I'm certainly pleased to not be dead or injured." She laughed into the phone.

"Indeed, indeed. The reason I'm calling, Harleen, is that the board would like you to meet with us tomorrow afternoon to discuss how you thought this session went and what your treatment plan is going forward. Would three o'clock work for you, at the Arkham Foundation's office?"

"Certainly, Dr. Schultz. I'll make sure to type up my notes from today's session so we can go over them tomorrow. Is there anything else I should have prepared for the board?"

"No, I think that will do. Just be prepared to share anything you've learned about him and any theories you may have with us. I assure you we are all eager to figure out just how you managed to make it through the session without injury." That would be fun to try to explain, Harleen thought to herself.

"Alright, well I'll see you tomorrow then, Dr. Schultz."

"Goodbye Harleen."

Harleen wasn't surprised to get his call. He might have waited a few more minutes after the guard reported to him but otherwise this was what she expected. She felt like Harry Potter, the therapist who lived! No cute little lightning bolt scar for her though, any scars from this session would be on her psyche. She'd have to come up with something convincing tonight at home because she obviously could not tell them that the Joker happened to be her dead husband's psychotic alter ego and that they had spent the first fifteen minutes of the session hashing out their past together. They'd probably lock her up in Arkham if she told them that.

Once Harleen made it back to her bland little apartment she began her evening's work. First she typed up notes from the session while it was still fresh in her mind. She could have done this in her office but her office has the same aged and depressing aesthetic as the rest of Arkham's maximum security wing and she really didn't want to spend any extra time in it. At least her apartment had some natural light though she hadn't bothered to add any homey touches to it. Some part of her hadn't really committed to staying here. After she had included some interesting points from the actual session and added some imaginary content that sounded convincing she put the report away and began working on her homework for the Joker. First she took the time to really read the news reports about his misdeeds. From the moment she had first seen his face on the news all she had thought about was Jack and getting closure with Jack, she hadn't really bothered with the Joker at all. Now she better understood what had happened here in Gotham City recently and realized she probably should have been significantly more frightened of him than she actually had been. Oh well, lucky for her things had gone ok and she thought he might actually like her a little. Or he at least seemed willing to tolerate her.

Next Harleen began compiling and printing out stories about Batman. She didn't plan to see the Joker again until Thursday since the Arkham board of directors had currently only requested that she meet with him twice a week. Still she wanted to have everything prepared and ready for him plus the extra information about Batman might help her tomorrow during her meeting. Batman obviously played a bigger role in the Joker's behavior than the news reports had really credited. Finally after many hours reading about Gotham's recent criminal and vigilante problems Harleen went to bed. She slept better than she had in years.

The next day was uneventful for Harleen until she began to prepare for the meeting. She was nervous about what the board would say. She had a request she knew they wouldn't like plus she was a little worried they were going to tell her that they were given permission to legally end the sessions and she wouldn't see the Joker again. She didn't feel comfortable examining why she cared about seeing the Joker again but she knew it would upset her if she couldn't. Soon enough it was time to head to the Foundation's offices. After entering the reception area she was directed to a conference room down the hall.

Harleen was the last to arrive despite being five minutes early. Everyone was clearly interested in hearing all about her dangerous patient. The meeting consisted of the seven board members of the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum Foundation and two assistants, one the administrative assistant of Dr. Schultz and the other a personal assistant to one of the wealthier board members. Harleen had only met Dr. Schultz and so the others were introduced to her. For the most part she knew that she would end up forgetting them as soon as she left the room. In addition to Dr. Schultz there was one other psychiatrist, Dr. Allen. The other members were an assortment of the usual type who head up foundation boards, mostly rich, a couple of retired public figures and an assortment of ladies who lunch.

As soon as the meeting began she was asked to go over her notes from the previous day's session. Little surprise was shown about his interest in chaos and destruction but a few of the members looked intrigued when she mentioned his fixation on Batman and his desire to have Batman visit him. Perhaps it confirmed their beliefs that Batman was nothing more than another mad criminal, why else would the Joker consider him to be like family? She was nervous when they asked her to give her assessment of his potential history and background because she had made it all up. The theory that she shared with them was that he was quite probably a former soldier suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. His knowledge of explosives and anger with authority figures fit neatly into this idea and since Jack had never been in the military it would get them looking in a direction which should never lead to him. No one laughed at her or called her a fraud so she hoped that meant she had gotten away with her lie. Finally it came down to the question she had been dreading.

"Dr. Quinzel, you must know what we are all wondering. Why you? Why were you the one that came out unscathed?" Dr. Allen asked her.

"Well sir, I don't really know. I've only begun working with him but I do know that he expressed various ideas suggesting he liked me and considered me worthy of his trust. I think with more time, more sessions I might gain greater insight into why. That being said I do know it's just as likely that he didn't hurt me because it amused him not to and next time I might not be so lucky. That does bring me to a request I have for the board. I'd like to have his restraints removed for our future sessions."

"Surely you must be kidding, Dr. Quinzel?" One of the other members asked, a former judge she thought.

"No, I think it would show the Joker that I trust him and I think it would also help him trust me. I've researched him and he seems obsessed with showing others how he views the world. He knows he can get out of the restraints and kill me whenever he wants, he's done it repeatedly since he has been at Arkham. If I show him that I know it too I think he will be less likely to be tempted to show me by actually doing it. I know it sounds strange but I think it's the right move to make from what I know of him so far. If there is an incident the guards are just outside the door and of course then we would know my little idea didn't work but I think it's worth a try." Harleen tried her best to sound confident and authoritative.

The board members talked quietly amongst themselves until finally Dr. Schultz turned to her and said, "Alright, Harleen, we'll trust that you know what you are doing. Is there anything else you'd like to bring up to us at this time?"

"No sir, I think that's everything."

"Well the last thing we want to inform you of is that our request to end the Joker's treatments has been answered though it was not what we hoped it to be. Unfortunately the state has said that if we discontinue treatment it will revoke a great deal of our funding that maintains the facilities at both Arkham Asylum and Arkham house."

"Arkham House sir?"

"Yes, it's the large brick colonial you see to your right when you enter the gates at Arkham. When we closed the main building at Arkham we still had some patients with nowhere else to go. None of them criminally insane of course, those patients were sent to Blackgate. It's just those too sick or old or even too poor for any other treatment facilities we could find for them. It was the original founder's house before it was turned into a nursing home for shell shocked soldiers after World War One. Well anyway, because the funding impact would be detrimental to these patients I'm afraid we will need to keep providing treatment to the Joker. Will you be willing to continue in your role as his therapist?"

"Yes of course, sir."

"Wonderful, please contact me if you have any questions and if you could forward your notes about the Joker's treatment to my assistant weekly so that they may be discussed at future board meetings I would appreciate it. I think we can adjourn for today everyone." Dr. Schultz concluded. Harleen quickly gathered her bag and was the first one out of the meeting. She wasn't interested in any weird inappropriate questions about what it was like to sit in the same room with the Joker that she felt sure she would be asked outside the formal meeting setting.

After she left the meeting Harleen immediately ducked into the ladies room in order to collect her thoughts. She had never really lied easily and now she was feeling rattled and nervous. The restroom was empty when she entered it and she quickly shut herself in the last stall furthest away from the door. She quietly tried to calm herself and think about what she had just done. She could have just said nothing at all, why create these lies to throw them off Jack's trail? The Joker had somehow erased all records of Jack, the police department hadn't been able to find even a hint as to his past. Jack was as gone as could be so why was she trying to protect the Joker, a murdering psychopath she barely knew much rather understood? As Harleen pondered her actions the door squeaked open and she could hear two women animatedly chatting with one another. It wasn't until they were close enough to her stall that she could hear their words that she realized they were the two assistants to the board members. And they were talking about her.

"Can you believe that bullshit? The military? How could a monster like that ever have served in our military? It's practically treason to even suggest something like that. What a bitch!" The first said, clearly having no idea that Harleen was in the room with them.

"I know and what the fuck was she wearing? She's supposed to be a doctor and she comes in there with a skirt that short and all that cleavage. Have some self-respect! How gross were the looks Dr. Schultz was giving her? His eyes were practically popping out of his head." The second replied. Was that true, was she really dressed in a provocative manner? It had seemed like a perfectly reasonable outfit when she put it on this morning.

"Please, like she's a real psychologist! You know she's probably some sort of call girl who makes big bucks to do freaky shit. Why else would the Joker kill or hurt everyone else and let her live? Cause she fucked him. Remember nice old Dr. Harmon? That freak cut his throat with a plastic fork. But Miss Blonde and Big Boobs is a good enough therapist to survive a session with him? There's no way!" They thought she was a prostitute and only got out alive because she was sexually servicing the Joker. Harleen lost the calm she had come in here seeking. Her whole body was beginning to tense and shake again.

"Oh my god, you are probably right! How gross is that! Can you imagine? Do you think he wears the clown make up while they're doing it? In the photos they showed on the news he looked so grungy you could practically smell him through the TV. How bad must your childhood have been to end up someone who fucks freaks for money?" They were both cackling hysterically now. Hot tears were running down Harleen's cheeks and her fists were clenched so tightly that her finger nails were cutting into her flesh.

"Someone like the Joker would have to be into some pretty depraved shit. What kind of trash does that make her? And then we have to treat her like she's actually a professional! It's too much. Oh geez, it's after five, I have to get going or I'll miss my bus! See you tomorrow." Harleen could hear one of the women's shoes clicking quickly across the bathroom and then the squeak of the door again.

"Bye Melissa!" The second woman called out as her friend left and then Harleen could hear the sink running for a minute or so. Instead of trembling with anger and embarrassment she suddenly felt an eerie calmness come over her. It was almost like someone else had stepped into her body and taken control. Without any conscious plan she stepped out of the stall as soon as she heard the loud whirring of the hand dryer. The woman never heard or saw Harleen come up behind her. Harleen grabbed the woman's long dark hair and before she had a chance to pull away or turn around Harleen slammed her head into the metal dryer mounted on the wall. Once, twice, three times and then let her go. The woman immediately crumpled into a heap on the floor. Harleen stooped down and took her pulse, still alive but unconscious. Remaining in this state of extreme calm she quickly left the room only pausing to stick her head out the door and make sure the hall was empty before she left the room.

She made it into her car before whatever had taken her over passed and Harleen came back to herself. Oh god, what had she done? She just attacked that woman! She could have killed her. And if anyone had seen her that would be the end of everything she had worked so hard for. She'd end up in prison. What the hell had happened back there? She didn't feel like herself but at the same time she couldn't say she felt like anyone else either. It had been like she had no choice but to attack that woman, like she could not have done a thing to have stopped herself. And while it had been happening she had felt something, it was like a lightning bolt of rage coursed through her body and left behind a residual tingle of pleasure. It wasn't adrenaline, she knew that feeling well from her gymnastic days. Whatever it was, it felt good, she had liked it. Oh god, she had _liked_ it.

Looking down at her trembling hands she saw bloody half-moons dug into each palm from clenching them earlier and some strands of long dark hair caught in the prongs of her engagement ring from Jack that she still wore. A sudden surge of nausea struck her and she pushed open her car door in case she threw up. Breathing heavily for a minute or two she found the feeling fading and felt confident enough to close the door again and put on her seat belt. She needed to get out of her before anyone saw her and realized she was still in the vicinity when this woman was attacked. She started up her car with shaking hands and took off as calmly as she could. She could figure out where the hell she was going after she got out of this parking lot.


	6. Chapter 6

_"It's not my fault some people wish I was dead_  
 _It's not my fault my precious little hands are red_  
 _It's not my fault they pushed so hard they made me_  
 _I've been magnetic since I was a baby"_

 _Magnetic Baby, Semi Precious Weapons_

As Harleen drove through the streets of Gotham her mind wasn't on her surroundings at all but instead wondering what would happen if someone found out what she had done. Of course she'd be arrested. She might not go to jail, it was the first thing she'd ever done wrong but she'd definitely lose her job. Could anyone have seen her? She didn't think so. In her strange state of mind that led to the violence she'd been very careful to avoid notice when exiting the building. Someone would surely contact her to ask if she had seen anything suspicious while she was in the building. She needed to practice her story, make it convincing. She couldn't lose everything now.

When she became aware of her surroundings she realized she was pulling into the Arkham parking lot. Why was she here? Well since she was she might as well go in, maybe go to her office and get some paperwork done. That's what she told herself while walking through the halls but she bypassed her office without a glance. She was headed into the maximum security wing, she was going to see him. Well sure, she should tell him about the meeting, tell him that she would continue as his therapist if he wanted. Nothing odd about that. It was late enough in the evening that most of the staff were gone for the day. She saw a few guards watching TV in the staff lounge but they didn't notice her pass by the door. The Joker's room was more of a prison cell than anything a mentally ill person would normally be placed in. The entrance was a barred door and the room itself was bare except for a cot and a small partitioned off area for a toilet and sink. It was depressing to even think of someone spending years in a cell like this. The Joker was laying on his cot staring at the ceiling and she thought at first he didn't know she was there. This was crazy, she should leave and go home. Just as she turned to leave she heard him.

"I, uh, didn't know you made house calls, Doctor." He didn't change position or look in her direction. She didn't know what to say. Even if she could think of something, she was starting to have trouble getting a full breath and her teeth were chattering. She was hyperventilating and if she didn't calm down she was going to pass out in front of the Joker's cell in maximum security. When she didn't answer the Joker sat up and looked at her in curiosity.

"You're looking pretty pale over there and your breathing seems a bit _funny_. You ok?" He stood up and walked over to the barred door. "C'mere, Doc, let me get a good look at you."

She was pulled closer by his voice, too panicked about getting air into her lungs to be frightened of what he might do to her.

"Hmm, enlarged pupils, hyperventilating, trembling like a leaf. Let me feel your hand." He demanded and put his long hand through the bars palm up for her to place hers in. She did as he said, maybe it was the lack of oxygen but she felt like someone was jumping up and down with excitement in her head when she made contact with his warm skin. "Cold, clammy. It's official, Harlequin, you're in shock. Now what could have happened to scare you so badly? Let's get you calmed down so you can tell Mr. J _all_ about it."

He suddenly sat down on the floor in front of his door pulling her down with him. It was all she could do to keep from falling. He moved his hand forward on hers, cradling it gently while he stroked the inside of her wrist with his thumb. Surprised by his actions she looked into his eyes and then found herself unable to look away. He was shushing her like an upset baby which she found funny but couldn't get a laugh out of her misfiring lungs. She started to feel lost in his eyes, like he was somehow hypnotizing her with them. Her brain quieted, she wasn't thinking about what she had done to that woman earlier or the fact she was sitting on the floor in the maximum security wing being soothed by her patient. All she was aware of was the gentle stroking of her wrist, the soothing white noise of his shushing and his deep brown eyes. And then finally her body started to calm, she could breathe normally again. Realizing how intimate their contact was she flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh good, you're back with me, Doc. You had me worried there for a minute. Now what's got you so _worked up_?" He stopped rubbing her wrist but didn't drop her hand and she didn't pull away. She felt like a helium balloon, if the Joker let her go she might fly off into the sky.

"I had a meeting today with the board." She paused, not sure if she should talk about the actual meeting or just go right into what happened after. And why was she going to tell the Joker she had assaulted someone? Maybe because he would tell her it was ok and she needed it to be ok more than she needed it to be a secret?

"Now I haven't met the Arkham board of directors but you had a meeting with me yesterday and weren't a mess after that. Are you trying to tell me that group of _stiffs_ is scarier than the big bad **Joker**?" He snarled at her but in a way intended to make her laugh so she giggled back at him.

"It wasn't the meeting, it was after. I was in the ladies room, I was in a stall and some women from the meeting came in. They didn't know I was there and I heard them talking about me. Well, about us really." She didn't really want to have to tell him what they were saying.

"Ah, about _us_? I take it their comments weren't, uh, very flattering?"

"No, they weren't. They said some things about the way I was dressed and then they said that the only reason I lived through the session was because I wasn't a psychologist at all." She was blushing again.

"Not a psychologist, well then what could you be little Harlequin?" His tone was teasing as though he already knew the answer.

"They said I was being paid to do things with you. That I was trash and I was only alive because I was willing to, to..." God, she couldn't say it. Not with him sitting so close and holding her hand.

"Fuck a _fuh-reak_ like me? Was that the idea, Harlequin? Did they call you my little whore?" He threw back his head and started laughing without giving her a chance to answer. It was so horrible, how could he laugh?

"Please don't laugh at me. It was awful. I was crying and shaking so. They just went on and on saying the worst things imaginable about us. I couldn't take it anymore." She tried to pull her hand away but he held onto it firmly though he did stop laughing.

"You just aren't seeing the joke yet. Back to your story, you couldn't, uh, take it anymore? So what did you do about it, Harlequin? Did you give them a stern talking to? Report them to the authorities for being mean girls?" He looked ready to laugh at her again.

"No. I wish that's what happened. I don't know why I did it. One of them left and I was still sitting in the stall crying but then everything just became clear. I was calm and I just knew what I had to do. I couldn't stop myself. I just walked up behind the other girl and I… oh God! I grabbed her. I grabbed her and then I hurt her. I hurt her really badly. Then I left as quickly as I could. I don't think anyone saw me. But I just started driving and somehow ended up here." She sped through what she had done as quickly as she could.

"Wait, back up and tell me what you did to her again. Slower this time and in detail, don't leave anything out." His voice was eager, like he'd never heard anything so interesting in his life.

"She had long hair and I grabbed her by it. Then I slammed her head into the hand dryer two, no three times. I let go of her and she just dropped to the ground in a heap. I thought she might be dead but I checked her pulse and it seemed strong. I think she was just unconscious but I don't really know for sure. Oh god, what if I killed her?" Up until now she'd just been worried that she would get caught, it had never crossed her mind that the girl still might die.

"Now, now, don't get me all excited over nothing, Harlequin. She's not dead. It takes more than that to kill someone, trust me, _I know_." She supposed he did, that was somewhat of a comfort. Not that he knew what it took to kill someone but that she probably hadn't done so.

"Oh Harlequin, when I see potential in someone I'm never wrong. I'm proud of you. You are coming along nicely, and soooo quickly." She realized he meant that. He really was proud of what she had done. Oh god, she needed to get out of here. He still had her hand and he was the Joker. She needed to stay calm and find a way out of this situation.

" _Don't do that_. I can see the fear on your face. Don't be afraid of what happened, Doc. You just had a taste of real chaos. Probably for the first time in your life you didn't have a plan. You had no scheme that you were working from. You did what was fair, what was needed. You didn't follow the rules, you were an agent of _chaos_." He tilted his head down and looked up into her eyes and smiled. It was chilling.

"It wasn't chaos. It was, I don't know, revenge? I was reacting to what she had said, how can that be chaos?"

"You were reacting? Is that what it felt like? A _reaction_? Is that what the police will file this away as, Harleen?" He asked in a knowing tone, smacking his lips enthusiastically. Of course not, she could visualize the words random act of violence across the report and knew it was true. A reaction would have been to go out and tell the woman off or even to slap her across the face. This was different. She felt different.

"Last question, Doc. How did you feel while it was happening?" She jerked her hand out of his and stood up quickly. He stood up as well but was hunched over laughing at her.

"That's ok, you don't have to answer. I think I know _just_ how you felt. Congratulations, you just took your first step, Harlequin." He stopped laughing and smiled at her.

"First step towards what? Becoming a violent criminal?"

"Your first step towards freedom. Soon you'll be free, just like me." He was serious. He thought he was free?

"You don't look very free to me." She held her head up and tried to sound as superior as she could.

"Oh really? You just don't know how to see things, uh, clearly. Turn around and look behind you, Doc."

She quickly did as he said in case there was someone there. No, nothing was there but the empty cell across from his. Suddenly she felt the Joker wrap his arm around her waist and pull her back against himself. There were no bars between them. She hadn't heard a sound, how had he gotten out? He used his other hand to gently push her hair away from her neck. She could feel him taking in a deep breath as though trying to pull in the scent of her skin and hair. Then he raised his lips close to her ear.

"But soon everything will be crystal clear, my little Harlequin." His warm breath on her ear caused goose bumps to break out all over and there was a sudden aching clench deep in her abdomen that she didn't want to contemplate. She tried to pull away and surprisingly he let her go. By the time she had turned back around he had closed the door to his cell again.

"Don't call me that, my name is Dr. Quinzel." She tried to give him a fierce look. He just laughed again.

"Oh good, denial. The first stage of grieving. You really are coming along nicely! Good night, Doc." And without another glance he returned to his cot and stared back up to the ceiling with an occasional giggle.

"Grieving, just who am I supposed to be grieving for? Is that some sort of threat?" He didn't answer her, just started laughing harder. She quickly turned and headed for the illusion of safety her apartment could provide.


	7. Chapter 7

_"Things in life are not played for keeps_  
 _If it makes you happy it'll make you weep"_

 _Sixteen Again, Buzzcocks_

Harleen was awoken the next morning at seven o'clock by her phone ringing. Unknown Caller. She answered anyway. Lieutenant Blake from the Gotham City police department wanted her to come down to the station to give a statement about the meeting she attended the day before. Well she had known this was going to happen. She'd fallen asleep last night repeating the innocent version of her movements yesterday, she had it well-rehearsed by now. The lieutenant had let her know that someone had been attacked in the building after the meeting. Harleen had asked after the victim and had been told she would be ok. That was good news, she supposed. She should feel happy that the person she attacked was alright but actually she felt… disappointed? God, what was wrong with her? That woman and her friend had been so awful she couldn't help thinking that the world might be better without them. As soon as she had the thought she could hear the Joker's laugh in her mind.

Getting ready for her visit to GCPD she dressed simply in dark jeans and a red t-shirt. She threw on a black cotton blazer to give her a slightly more professional look plus Gotham in September could be unpredictable. She decided to carry a large black Kate Spade bag she rarely used. The bag was big enough to give the impression of something more professional like an attaché case. Giving herself a final look in the mirror she was pleased with what she saw. She looked like she was a successful young woman and not a sociopath who goes around attacking people in public restrooms; mission accomplished, Harleen.

The Gotham Police Department was extremely busy when Harleen arrived. There were harried looking detectives pouring over files, handcuffed people waiting for processing and phones ringing constantly. She went to the information desk and let the young man there know who she was and why she was there. Within moments Lieutenant Blake was there to greet her. He was in his early thirties and not a bad looking man though not really her type. He had black hair and bright blue eyes which was an appealing combination but he clearly spent a great deal of time lifting weights. Harleen preferred a taller, leaner body type; like the Joker. NO! Like Jack, that's what she had meant to think.

"Dr. Quinzel, thank you for coming in so quickly. I'm glad I could be here to take your statement personally." He looked her up and down and obviously liked what he saw. Well why not use that to her advantage?

"It's no problem, I want to be of any help I can. I've always admired police officers but I think to work as one here in Gotham must require a particularly brave person." Yeah, that wasn't obvious at all, Harleen, she thought to herself. "It's so busy here!"

"Oh well that's not all because of our high crime rate. You see a couple of months ago this crazy guy blew up the MCU offices and they've had to squeeze in here with us. It's been pretty chaotic trying to fit everything in the available space. I'm afraid you'll find the place more disorganized than usual." He clearly hadn't been informed who it was she counseled at Arkham.

"Yes, I do remember reading about that. I've only just moved to Gotham so I missed all the excitement. Well it's good of you to all pitch in together. I know the local hospitals have had to do the same thing."

"Yeah, same crazy guy. So where are you from?" Oh good, more small talk.

"Metropolis, and no, I've never met Superman." Harleen giggled and put a small hand on the Lieutenant's arm in a flirtatious manner. He beamed at her.

"Well if you'll just follow me back to my desk we can get your statement taken care of." He clearly wanted to get the business out of the way, probably so he could ask her out. He led her along a path through occupied desks and then down a hallway crowded with boxes stacked at varying heights along one wall.

"Pardon all this mess, there was just nowhere else to put the MCU property boxes. This is just new cases, most of the old stuff was destroyed in the explosion." Interesting, the Joker had been brought in after the explosion, was there a box somewhere in these stacks that had his belongings. She scanned what she could see as they walked along the hall but didn't see anything labeled "Joker". Finally they came to another open area crammed full of as many desks as it could hold.

"Have a seat, Doctor. Can I get you coffee or anything?" He asked politely.

"Oh no, I'm fine. And please, call me Harleen." She said with a bright smile.

"Alright, Harleen." He smiled back at her as they sat down.

"Now why don't you just give me your timeline for yesterday starting with the meeting and then I'll see if I have any questions." He looked at her encouragingly.

"Ok, well I arrived for the meeting about five minutes early but everyone was waiting for me in the conference room already. You see I was hired to treat a much sensationalized patient and I think the whole board was quite curious to hear what I had to say. We started the meeting and it ran oh, just short of two hours. As soon as Dr. Schultz dismissed us I immediately gathered my papers and headed out to my car. After that I went over to Arkham to file away some paperwork and briefly speak to my patient about how the meeting had gone. Then I went home and watched television until I got tired. I know that can't help you much but that's how my day went." Harleen gave the Lieutenant another smile and flipped her hair back. His eyes followed her hand.

"It is a help, every piece of information we can get about what happened in that building yesterday helps. Now if I could ask you just a few follow up questions?"

"Of course, Lieutenant."

"Now if I'm calling you Harleen you should call me Pete."

"Ok, Pete, what else can I tell you?"

"May I ask why you left so quickly after the meeting?"

"Yes, of course. Well as I mentioned my patient is quite a curiosity for most people and I didn't want to get caught up in answering a lot of questions about him plus I was concerned that some of the questions would violate patient confidentiality but didn't want to offend any board members by refusing to answer them." She could answer this part truthfully.

"That makes sense. Can you tell me who your patient is? It's not pertinent to the case but I must admit to being curious." He laughed a bit.

"Well I'm afraid that might not be appropriate and I am new to the job so I don't want to do anything that could get me in trouble. If you interview Dr. Schultz you can ask him, he's the head of Arkham and if he thinks it's ok to share then it is." Harleen knew it would be perfectly ok to share her patient's name but she felt it would affect her rapport with Pete.

"I can understand that, none of us likes making the boss angry and it really doesn't relate to the investigation." Harleen knew that wasn't exactly true but obviously didn't correct him.

"Now just one or two more things. Did you stop by the women's restroom on your way out of the building?" He asked. This is where things got tricky. If someone had seen her going in and told the police she would be caught in a lie by denying it but if she told them she had gone in she would be under suspicion. She had decided last night to lie and deny going in. She was sure no one had seen her leave the restroom and it was equally likely no one had noticed her going in.

"No, I just gathered my things and went immediately out to my car." She kept her voice calm and steady, she had repeated it to herself so much last night she almost believed it.

"That's fine, it's just that so far no one remembered seeing you after the meeting and so we thought there was a chance you might have stopped there. It's where the incident happened so if you had been in and seen anyone it could give us a break in the case." He was trying to reassure her that she was being helpful, that was sweet.

"I'm sorry I can't help more. I really didn't see anyone on the way out. I only saw the receptionist on the way in but I think she had left for the day by the time I left."

"Yes, she had an appointment elsewhere and left before the meeting ended. Well I think that's it for now, Harleen."

"I know you can't tell me much but do you have any idea why this happened. I'd hate to think women were being targeted inside office buildings now. That seems extreme even for Gotham."

"Honestly I shouldn't be telling you this but it's looking more and more like it was just a random act of violence. The girl doesn't have any known enemies and no one saw anyone suspicious around the building. Don't tell anyone I told you that though or you'll get me in trouble with my boss." He was really such a helpful guy. Harleen could feel herself glowing a bit, she was going to get away with this.

"So now that we're done with the professional stuff can I ask you a personal question?" Here it comes, the price for her flirting.

"Of course, Pete."

"Well I know you're new here and I'd love to show you around the city a bit. I have Friday off, I could show you some sites and maybe we could get some dinner?" He looked at her hopefully. She had planned to lie and say she had a boyfriend but he was cute and it might do her some good to spend time with a man who wasn't a murderer.

"Sure, that sounds great. Shall we say five o'clock?"

"Great! I'll call you tomorrow to arrange everything." Just then the phone on his desk rang. "I should answer that, pardon me." He answered the phone and after saying 'ok' a couple of times he hung up.

"Sorry about that, Harleen but that's my CO. He wants me to come up to his office right away. Would you mind seeing yourself out or I can get someone else to take you?" He looked apologetic.

"It's no problem, I just go down that same hallway, right?"

"That's the way!" He agreed.

"Is there a ladies room I could stop by on my way out?" She asked.

"Sure, it's down that same hall, third door on the left. I'm really looking forward to Friday." He said with a smile.

"Me too! See you then, Pete!" She left him with another bright smile and he headed the opposite way towards what she presumed must be his commanding officer's office.

There were people everywhere but no one was really paying attention to her as she walked past several desks and back into the long hallway full of boxes she had come through earlier. She walked slowly pausing to look at random things on the walls, trying her best to be casual and inconspicuous. When she came to the property boxes she leaned against the opposite wall and took out her phone. Pretending to look at something on the screen she instead turned on the camera and zoomed in on the boxes, looking for the one she wanted. Finally she found one labeled "The Clown" and she assumed that had to be it. Waiting for a woman pushing a cart with what looked like mail on it to pass Harleen then as quickly and as subtly as possible pulled out the box and carried it into the restroom Pete had directed her to.

She could hear someone flushing as she walked in so she ducked into the first stall she came to and shut the door before she could be seen. Propping the box up on the toilet she opened the lid and looked inside. She knew she had the right box as soon as she saw all the purple. She heard the other person leave and started to gently move the contents of the box around. She was glad she had been cautious since the only other things in the box besides shoes and clothing were knives. At least a dozen of them in all shapes and sizes. When she took the box she had planned to only look inside, but now she found herself tempted to take something. Actually if she thought she could get the whole box out without getting caught she would but of course that was much too great a risk to take. She picked up the shirt in the box and smelled it. The first scents to hit her were gasoline and gun powder but under it was something masculine and musky. His smell. Jack's smell. You could change a lot about yourself but the natural smell of your skin was pretty hard to alter. It was a smell she hadn't encountered in years and it filled her with equal parts sadness and joy. For weeks after Jack was hospitalized she had slept with anything of his that still smelt like him until finally everything left in the house had picked up her scent instead. She realized a tear was running down her cheek. Crying and breaking the law in public restrooms was becoming a thing with her.

She was now determined to take as much of his property with her as she could. There was no way it would all fit in her purse. The shoes would be impossible so she didn't even bother trying. She left the socks behind as well, she wasn't quite so desperate that she was resorting to sniffing socks. There were no boxers in the box, she wasn't sure why that was, perhaps the Joker went commando or perhaps a souvenir hunter had taken them. That was a disturbing thought. Finally after experimenting a little she managed to just squeeze the overcoat into a bulging lump in her purse. She tucked the leather gloves and tie into her jeans pockets. After that she had to get creative. Eventually she was able to layer and hide his clothes under her own so that with a little folding and tucking it wouldn't be obvious to anyone that she was wearing two sets of clothing unless they looked closely. That left the knives. She was sure the Joker probably had names for all of them and particular favorites. She decided to choose any that she could fit down into the sides of her boots and had some sort of protective covering so they wouldn't cut her. Now she just had to put the box back and make it out of the station without getting caught. She cautiously made her way out of the bathroom and slid the box back onto one of the stacks when she was sure no one was looking at her. So long as she didn't run into Pete again she was fairly certain she'd get away with this insane behavior she was engaging in. Not seeing Pete anywhere between her and the door she walked out as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself, once she was a few feet from the station door she sprinted off towards her car.

As soon as she was safe in her car she was hit by an incredible adrenaline rush. She was shaking but it felt good. She had just stolen from the police department but she didn't feel bad about it. She felt fairly certain that if the Joker knew about her stealing his clothes he would have been amused by it. Her drive back to her apartment was uneventful but she rushed to undress and get into the shower as soon as she could. Smelling the Joker all over her mixed with the adrenaline was too much right now, it was making her feel light headed. Showered and in a clean pair of yoga pants and t-shirt she had most of the rest of the day to fill up and so many things in her head that needed thinking about. She decided now would be a good time to get some more boxes unpacked. Of course her daily essentials were unpacked but her dining room was completely full of boxes of things like books and knick knacks. The repetitive motion of setting up her books on the shelf gave her time to think about everything that had happened over the last twenty four hours. She wasn't concentrating, just letting moments wash over her when suddenly she started laughing. Joker was right, it was funny. Those women speculating about what sorts of things he was into and her being so offended. Of course she'd had sex with him, hell she'd lost her virginity to that body though it was Jack's at the time. It was a pretty good joke!

She was still chuckling when she opened the next box. She froze as soon as she saw what was in it. It was the urn with Jack's cremains. But they weren't Jack's, who knows who the hell was in there. She felt embarrassed thinking of the peace and closure she'd experienced when she got the urn from the mortuary. Like he was finally back home with her. All this time and he was out there alive in the world, transforming himself into the Joker. She'd poured her heart out to this urn so many times, thinking it was the last remnant of Jack in the world. Cried so many tears onto it. It made her feel like a fool to think of it now. And it made her angry, so fucking angry. She stopped herself before she smashed the ceramic container into the wall. These remains might not have been Jack but they did belong to a person. Still she couldn't keep them here. Grabbing her keys and the urn she ran out of the house. She drove to the docks and found an isolated spot. The sun was almost completely set now but there was still enough light to see what she was doing. She looked down at the urn that had meant so much to her.

"Whoever you are I guess I owe you a thank you for all the times you gave me solace. I hope you are at peace now." Then she opened the urn and began shaking the ashes out into the sea, when the urn was empty she pulled her arm back and threw the container as far out as she could. In just a minute or two the urn filled with water and sunk.

After the solemn moment at the docks Harleen found her anger coming back full force. She felt like she had to release it or she'd explode or maybe jump out of her skin. Her mind drifted back to the rage followed by pleasure she felt when she attacked the assistant in the bathroom. She had a sharp craving to feel that way again. Refusing to allow that to happen she headed to the gym instead and worked out until she was too tired to do more and the demonic anger inside her quieted. It was amazing what a routine full of flips, cartwheels and handsprings could do to lift the spirits. She needed another shower before she could go to bed. Afterwards, standing in her bedroom in just a pair of panties, she looked over at the tank top she would normally throw on to sleep in and then over at the pile of the Joker's neatly folded clothing. Hesitating briefly she decided it was time to take a break from denial and so she put on the Joker's patterned blue button down before slipping into bed.


	8. Chapter 8

_"See, I keep lying to myself_  
 _Don't know what else there is to do_  
 _If I could be somebody else–_  
 _Well, I think–I would for you"_

 _I would for you, Nine Inch Nails_

In the morning Harleen hurried to Arkham for her second session with the Joker. It would be their first session without him being restrained. Her stomach felt like it was vibrating, she was so nervous. She did have faith in her theory that this would actually keep her safer. After all just two days ago he had slipped out of his cell and had her at his mercy. At that thought her mind flashed to something really inappropriate for a doctor to be thinking about her patient and for a sane person to think about a sociopath. She did not want to be at the Joker's mercy- no, no, no. He had just been in the position to do anything he wanted to her. Ok this wasn't helping, time to stop thinking, Harleen, and just go in and do your job.

After she was settled into the grim little interview room the guards brought the Joker in. They sat him down and one guard removed his cuffs while the other pointed a Taser at the Joker. He started laughing when he realized that instead of chaining him to the bolts on the floor and table they were actually removing his restraints altogether. He looked up at Harleen and gave her a big smile.

"Ok, Doc! Look at you! Ready to show you aren't afraid of little old me?"

"No, of course not, I'm not stupid." She said with a smile and laugh.

"You sure you want to do this Dr. Quinzel? I think you should maybe rethink it." The guard, Tom she thought, asked her.

"I'm sure, thank you gentlemen. See you in an hour." And with that the guards left the room. The Joker immediately jumped up out of his chair and began meandering around the room with his hands held behind his back. He looked around the room as though there was something worth looking at but really it was just an attempt to make his walk over to her side of the room seem casual. They both knew it was an act, he was getting ready to put on a show for her of some sort. Harleen just hoped she lived through whatever it was. Finally he stopped next to her and sat down on the edge of the table.

"Now then, why don't you tell me what _exactly_ your plan is here, Doc? I can't imagine I've already earned one of your little, uh, _rewards_." He rested his hands on either side of his body and waited for her to answer.

"I think we both know that you can kill me any time you want to with or without the restraints. Isn't that right, Mr. J?" He nodded at her and smiled.

"I didn't see any point to the restraints. I figured best case scenario they just made you uncomfortable and worst case you might decide getting out of them and hurting me was a fun thing to do if you got bored so I decided they needed to go." She smiled up at him and hoped she had said the right thing.

"That's pretty smart thinking, Harlequin. Did I ever tell you why I like to use a knife?" She shook her head.

"Now I'm not saying I, uh, never use a gun. But I prefer a knife. See guns are too quick, but knives, knives are personal. With a knife you can _savor_ the moment. In their last moments, people show you who they really are." He paused and licked his lips. "You know what I want, Doc?"

Harleen shook her head again. Her throat had gone dry and she couldn't get any words past it.

"I want to know who you _really_ are." Before Harleen could react the Joker had reached out his long arms and wrapped his hands around her throat. He started applying gentle pressure but increased it gradually as he spoke.

"You see, Doc, I think I have a pretty good idea who Harleen Quinzel is, but there's someone else in there too. I see little, uh, glimpses of her every time we talk but she keeps disappearing before I can get a really good look at her." He was smacking his lips and rolling his eyes up like he was thinking about every word before he said it but it seemed like a performance. Harleen shook her head a little to deny there was someone else. In response he started to squeeze hard enough she couldn't breathe. She raised her hands up to his and made an ineffective attempt to pull them away from her throat. Since that didn't work she began clawing at his arms and hands with her fingernails instead

"Now see, that, that's still you Harleen. Fighting back, that's what I _expect_ from you, Doctor. Don't get me wrong, I like that you have some fight in you. It's just not telling me what I want to know." He leaned forward and stared deep into her eyes as though trying to find that illusive person he believed to be in there. Harleen clamped her eyes shut and tears ran down her cheeks. She dug her nails as deeply into his arms as she could, if she was going to die she was at least going to hurt him as much as she could. Then her eyes flew open. That eerie calm she'd felt before the attack in the restroom came over her again. She stared back at the Joker defiantly and lowered her hands from his arms. They sat there staring at each other but she stopped fighting him.

"Ah, _there_ you are! I knew you were in there somewhere. I still don't know _who_ you are though." He was examining her like a new life form he was trying to understand. She was suddenly filled with that intense rage she had experienced before. She was about to pass out but with her remaining consciousness she gave him an evil grin and her eyes glittered with malice.

"Oh, I think I like you _a lot_. I'll bet if I let you go right now you'd bash my brains in wouldn't you, cupcake?' His hands eased up enough that she could draw a little breath and she nodded enthusiastically. He started laughing while squeezing her neck tighter.

"I have no idea what you're, uh, going to do next but I can't wait to find out!" He resumed laughing and for Harleen the room went black.

When Harleen came to her head was resting on the metal table and the Joker was sitting in the chair across from her studying his nails. If her throat weren't on fire she'd have thought she dreamed the whole thing. She stood up carefully and straightened her clothing. She walked quickly over to the door and opened it.

"Could one of you please get me something to drink, I think I'm coming down with something." She hoarsely asked one of the guards. He ran across to the hall to the staff lounge and brought her a bottle of water.

"Thank you." And then she returned to the room and began slowly sipping water. She returned to her seat and looked up at the Joker who had been watching her since she stood up.

"How are you feeling, Harlequin?" He asked, his face a mask of false concern.

"A little sore and angry as hell" Might as well be honest, she hadn't had an outlet for that rage she felt earlier and it was still simmering away just below the surface. At least the anger had the advantage of driving away any lingering fear she might have.

"You're welcome to, uh, vent a little of that anger on me. I promise I can take it." His eyes were full of mischief. She was tempted but she worried that she wouldn't stop at just a punch or two.

"I'll take a raincheck."

"Oh I'm going to hold you to that, Doc." He leered at her and she suddenly felt very warm. Time to change the subject.

"Would you mind if we returned to some of the things we were talking about last session? I brought the information I promised you about Batman." She pulled the news articles out of her notepad and slid them across the table to him. He picked them up and started skimming through them quickly. Maybe he was just looking for particular things or maybe he was speed reading, she couldn't be sure. She watched his face while he read, it was animated but swung so quickly from amusement to anger that she had trouble keeping up. He finished his reading and slid the pile back over to her.

"Thanks, Doc, that was, uh, _enlightening_." If he sensed how closely she was examining his face earlier his only reaction to it was to make his face as blank and calm as possible.

"You told me during our last session that you had a plan to make Batman break his rule about not killing anyone in order to show him how alike you two are. Could you tell me more about that?" She found this idea that he equated himself with Gotham's vigilante very interesting. He had struck quite a blow to the local mobs but his actions did not seem driven by any desire to do the right thing.

"A plan? Sorry, Doc, I don't make plans." A disgusted look crossed his face. That's right, he'd expressed some disdain for planning to her the other day. Still…

"I can't understand how you could have done all the things you did without a great deal of planning." Was it really possible to cause so much destruction without working it all out in advance?

"Just because _you_ can't understand something doesn't mean it isn't true." He smacked his lips and then his tongue slid out and started toying with the scars on one side of his mouth. She read in one of the more in depth articles written about him that he was more than once heard asking his victim if they wanted to know how he got his scars. The reporter suggested that the answer was always different. It was obvious this was a way of frightening or intimidating whomever he had his attention on. He couldn't really use that on Harleen for obvious reasons, she knew exactly how he got those scars. He could however still use the scars as a way to affect her emotions. She knew  exactly how he got those scars. She refused to be manipulated by them and just kept looking at him to let him know she expected more of an answer.

"Look, I don't plan. I don't scheme. I just see things clearly, unlike the rest of you. I see the big picture. I usually know how things are going to play out long before they happen. But it's chaotic because nature is chaotic and humans no matter how they work to fight it are still part of nature. So sometimes how I see things is not how they turn out. The ferries for example. That didn't play out the way I saw it at all. Too many people involved to guarantee results. Another time, another set of people. **BOOM!** " He mimicked an explosion with his hands and let out a high pitched giggle. "Individuals though are easy to figure out. Harvey Dent for example. Now that went _exactly_ how I expected it to. Unfortunately Batman found a way to ruin that at the last minute. My fault though, I explained the joke."

"What do you mean about Harvey Dent? If Batman didn't kill him what did happen?" Harleen asked.

"I don't know what happened in the end, I'm sure it was a good show though. Batman is always so much fun. That's one of the many things he and I have in common, we're both a lot of laughs." He laughed loudly as though to make his point.

"What else do you and Batman have in common?" Harleen was getting excited, was she actually successfully providing therapy to the Joker?

"Well we both have a great sense of fashion, though he's a bit too Goth for my taste." He winked at her.

"Do you think he shares your world view? Do you think you have any personality traits in common?" She was going to keep pushing until it made him angry.

"Batman and I, we're on the same level. We both had something happen that changed us. One bad day, that's all it really takes, Doc. And I made sure Harvey Dent had an eye opener of a day, I made him like _us_."

"Did Batman tell you something changed him? That he had a bad day that changed him?"

"He didn't tell me anything, he didn't have to. It's written all over him. Maybe his girlfriend was gang raped or the mob killed his brother? Could be anything. But I know what a person looks like afterwards. You could see it in Dent too after his bad day. Sometimes something so bad happens that it changes you forever, opens your eyes to how the world _really_ works and makes you aware of others like you." The Joker gave her a pointed look. "Don't you agree, _Harleen_?"

Her mouth went dry and she sipped her water while she tried to think of something to say. She couldn't deny that she'd had the sort of day he was talking about, it was the same day that set him on the path to madness. But it hadn't changed her. Had it?

"I'm sure that's true for some, but others deal with those types of experiences in different ways. Some turn to their faith for example, seek strength in God."

"Oh you people and your love of any story that denies the randomness of existence. Is that what you did, Harleen, turned to _god_?" He looked like the word left a bad taste in his mouth.

"No, I didn't do anything, just went on with my life. I tried to put things behind me and just move on."

"The sort of bad day I'm talking about you don't just put behind you, Doc. With some people like my friend Harvey a bad day like that destroys you _fast_ , burns you up to a pile of ashes and someone new rises out of those ashes like a phoenix. Other people form a cocoon around themselves thinking it will protect them. They can make that cocoon out of anything. Work, school, love, religion. It doesn't matter what they use but the thing about cocoons is that they change you too, it's just a slower process. I don't know which my buddy Batman is, a phoenix or a butterfly. I'll have to ask him next time I see him." The idea sent him into a fit of laughter, Harleen got the idea he might be laughing at her.

"Well we're just about out of time Mr. J. Before we end our session is there anything else you would like to tell me? I won't see you again until Monday, is there anything you need? Are you sleeping ok, eating regularly?"

"Oh I'm just fine here, **snug** as a **bug** in a **rug**. There is _something_ I'd like to ask though." He paused for her permission to go on, she gave him a slight nod.

"Where are you going on your date, Harlequin?" He grinned smugly at her.

"How do you…. what do you mean by that?" She couldn't help being flustered, how could he know that she had a date? Was he spying on her somehow?

"How do I know you have a date? Well like I said, individual people are pretty easy to figure out. I knew after our little _heart to heart_ on Tuesday you'd go out and find a date just as soon as you could. A pretty girl like you wouldn't have to try very hard. I bet whoever he is he's as different from _me_ as you could find." He shifted his tongue over to the corner of his mouth and looked up as though thinking.

"A teacher…lawyer… police officer…" He must have seen some reaction in her face. "Ah, a police officer. In Gotham you might find he's not as different from me as you think. Can't beat the Gotham police force for violent criminal acts. You might want to wear a turtleneck though, your neck is a little, uh…" He raised his hands and made a strangling gesture.

Her cheeks were burning red with embarrassment now and she decided to focus her attention on her notepad. Seeing her notes about the Joker's relationship with Batman cheered her slightly, at least they accomplished something today.

"There's a psychology term for that isn't there, Doc. Starts with an 'S' I think….I'm _sure_ I'll remember it later." She looked up at him suddenly, eyes wide.

"Oh look, the guards are here. Have a good time on your date, Harlequin. _I'll be thinking of you_." He crooned the last part at her making it sound like a lover's promise but he had an evil look on his face that made it seem more like a threat.

"Good bye, Mr. J." She said quietly. Sublimation. That's what he'd been implying wasn't it? That she was, what? Sublimating her desire for him with a more socially acceptable choice? That wasn't true! Was it?


	9. Chapter 9

_"Well I'm so happy I'm feeling so fine_  
 _I'm watching all the rubbish, you're wasting my time_  
 _I look around your house, you got nothing to steal_  
 _I kick you in the brains when you get down to kneel"_

 _No Feelings, Sex Pistols_

Pete had been true to his word and called her Thursday evening to make plans with her. After he picked her up they were going to park downtown and walk around a bit then have dinner in one of Gotham's trendier neighborhoods. Now it was Friday and Harleen decided to treat herself to a manicure and pedicure before her date. She really hadn't pampered herself lately and as strenuous as this week had been she deserved it. The Joker was right though, she definitely would be spending the day in a turtle neck. Not her first choice for date wear but her neck was bruised all the way around. The most embarrassing part was that right in the center of her throat the Joker had position his thumbs in such a way that she had what looked like a dark purple heart bruised into her flesh. She considered the possibility he did it on purpose, that maybe he had wanted to mark her as belonging to him. That idea gave her a strange little thrill. He had certainly guaranteed that she wouldn't be inviting Pete in for "coffee" tonight.

When Pete came to pick her up it was clear from his reaction that he appreciated the extra care she had put into her appearance. If he thought the turtle neck odd he didn't make any comment and fortunately for her the weather was rather chilly. Throughout the drive downtown Pete pointed out different important buildings and sites of Gotham to her. She didn't pay much attention but she was grateful not to have to engage in too much small talk. Harleen hated small talk. She didn't really care what other people's favorite shows or food allergies were. Maybe it was because she spent so much of her time delving into deeper matters with people as a psychologist but she just found that on the surface people were mostly the same and ultimately they were very dull. Below the surface most people were actually an amazing collection of neuroses and insecurities that she found fascinating but it wasn't socially acceptable to start prying into that stuff when you first met someone so she engaged in the expected small talk when it was required of her.

Once they had parked and started walking from the parking garage towards the block the restaurant was on Pete reached down and held her hand. He looked at her as though checking that it was ok. She smiled up at him but could feel that her smile wasn't reaching her eyes. He turned back to pointing out war memorials and art deco buildings but Harleen couldn't focus on what he as saying. His hand felt like a prison, a trap. A clammy trap. A voice in the back of her mind was screaming 'Let me go, let me go, let me go!' but she resisted the urge to vocalize the thought. Pete never noticed her discomfort. When they turned onto the street the restaurant was located on Pete turned to her and apologized for the area.

"I know it's a little weird around here but the food's supposed to be great at this place. This area used to be a pretty bad slum but now it's turning into a kind of arty area. Gentrified I guess, I think that's the word."

Harleen looked around, it was an eclectic area. Old bodegas and run down houses were slowly making way for hip cocktail bars and vintage clothing stores. The restaurant they were headed to was located in a craftsman bungalow that had been restored and converted to its new purpose. Next to it was a tattoo parlor with a lot of vintage images in their window. The name of the place was Gotham Tattoo Club, hipsters really were taking over the world. Across the street a punk and goth clothing store was blaring some sort of screeching punk song out of speakers over its door. This really didn't seem like Pete's kind of neighborhood, he must have gotten the restaurant recommendation from someone else.

"It's great, Pete. I like arty just fine." She gave him a pretty little smile trying to help him feel less insecure.

The restaurant was actually really nice. Harleen started to enjoy herself and Pete had even managed to tell a few humorous stories about life in the GCPD. This date was maybe not so bad, Harleen was thinking to herself. Then Pete brought _him_ up.

"So I talked to Dr. Arkham and he mentioned, on his own, I didn't ask, he mentioned that you were brought to Arkham to treat the Joker. Sorry about the things I said the other day, they weren't really appropriate. Me calling him crazy and all. I know you therapists aren't real fond of that term." He looked at her really sincerely. It was sweet that he would be concerned about her feelings but she wasn't prepared to have to think about the Joker just now. In fact she had been trying really hard not to think of him all evening. And to stop sneaking her hand up to her neck to press on the hidden heart shape in its center. Also if she could please try harder to ignore the little jolt of pleasure that raced through her body every time she did, that would be great.

"It's fine, Pete. You didn't offend me, I promise. I've heard much worse said about my client. He's a difficult case to work on and I really don't want to think about work right now. Is it ok if we don't talk about Arkham or the Joker tonight? I'm just having a really nice time with you." That was almost the truth and it made Pete smile at her and change the subject so it must have been the right thing to say.

The rest of their evening went well, not thrilling but well enough. Harleen found herself bored more than once but she couldn't find any other faults with Pete. He was sweet, kind, good looking. Dull, dull, dull. Nobody's perfect. When he took her home he walked her to the door and Harleen prepared herself for a nice dull kiss. And that was how it started out but unexpectedly Pete took advantage of her relaxed lips and shoved his tongue into her mouth while pulling her body up against his. His mouth tasted fresh and minty and he was what would probably be considered a good kisser but she felt completely repulsed by him. She tried to find pleasure in the kiss but couldn't. She was about to push him away but then his hand slipped up her arm and onto her neck. As soon as he came in contact with her bruised flesh that jolt of pleasure shot through her again and she let out a little moan. Pete took that as a good sign and redoubled his efforts. With her eyes closed Harleen could feel herself starting to imagine it was someone else she was kissing. She raised her hand up to the nape of his neck and when she felt his straight short clipped hair instead of the tangle of long curls she'd expected she realized just who it was she was imagining. Her eyes popped open and seeing Pete's face there nearly made her gag. She had to stop this, she felt ill.

"I'm a bit of an old fashioned girl, Pete. I think we should slow things down for now." She told him once she managed to pull out of his embrace.

"Sure, Harleen, I understand. I had a great time, can we do this again soon?" He asked her.

"That'd be great, Pete. Thanks for tonight." She hurried into her apartment without waiting to watch him leave. She had to rinse her mouth out in the kitchen sink to avoid throwing up. She could still feel him on her lips, it wasn't enough. She ran to her bathroom and brushed her teeth and scrubbed the make-up off her face. She felt fresh and clean when she left the bathroom but looking around her small apartment it suddenly felt as clammy and prison like as Pete's hand had earlier that night. Without thinking about the time or her safety she took off out of her apartment and into the streets of Gotham. She decided a brisk walk in the cold night air was just what she needed. One problem with Gotham was that good neighborhoods were only a few blocks away from the nearest bad neighborhood and soon Harleen found herself in an area known to be quite dangerous. By the time she realized where she was she could already hear footsteps behind her. She quickened her pace.

"Hey, baby! Yeah, Blondie, I'm talking to you. Where you goin' so fast? You all by yourself, baby?"

She could hear him calling from behind her but not far enough behind her. She turned down a side street thinking she could cut through to the next block and run for a safer area. Unfortunately what she had taken for a side street was actually a dead end alley. She turned back to the main street but it was too late, he was coming right toward her. He wasn't a particularly big guy, 5'9" or 5'10" with a medium build. He was ugly as hell and had what looked like a switchblade in one hand. Worst of all, he was getting closer.

"Wanna have some fun, baby? I think you do or you wouldn't be out here all by yourself at this time of night."

He was only a couple of feet away from her now and she was beginning to tremble with fear. She'd had some very basic self-defense training at some point but it was all a blur now that she needed it. Not being able to think of what to do she just went with her instincts and kicked him as hard as she could in the groin. He bent over and groaned.

"That's not gonna stop me baby, I like it rough."

Before he could straighten back up Harleen took a couple of steps back and executed a quick forward handspring. She could feel the street scraping and bruising the palms of her hands but she had to ignore that if she wanted a chance of getting out of this situation. She aimed her feet to land on his shoulders which were still bent forward and put all the force into it she could. She knocked him off balance and he fell forward, hitting his head on the asphalt. He was swearing at her but he wasn't jumping up to attack her, he seemed shocked that she had managed to hurt him. Now was her chance to run and she almost did but then she saw a two by four propped up against the wall of one of the buildings. The calmness that she was beginning to think of as her other self descended upon her. She grabbed the two by four and raised it over her head and brought it down on her attacker with all her strength. He groaned and flattened to the ground. She thought he might be unconscious. A small little voice in the back of her head said 'Run' but her conscious mind was having fun now. She kept hitting him with the board and each time it made contact with his head or body she squealed in delight. With each hit a voice in the back of her head was yelling 'Stop" louder and louder. Finally she gave in to it and took a step away from her attacker. She should go before she got caught. Just one more thing before she headed home. It didn't take long to find a piece of glass in the alley. She pushed her would be attacker over with her foot and scratched the word 'Rapist' into his forehead. That might help assure that if he lived he wouldn't willingly go to the police. She took the two by four with her, you never knew who you might run into on the streets of Gotham as she now knew from first-hand experience.

A block or two from her apartment Harleen threw the board into a nearly empty dumpster behind a fast food restaurant. No need to hold on to anything incriminating. Once she was in the safety of her own apartment she'd expected this feeling of something possessing her to leave like it had after the last time she attacked someone but it was still there, she was still different. She wondered what the Joker would say if she went to him right now; what he'd do to her, what he'd do with her. Unfortunately no one would let her into Arkham at this hour. Instead she got undressed and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked wild and her breathing was fast. Her heart shaped bruise was still there, she ran her fingers over it and shivered with pleasure. Spotting the pile of the Joker's clothes behind her in the mirror she picked up his purple overcoat and put it on. She ran her fingers over the smears of his face paint along the front of the coat and then raised the lapels up to her nose. They smelled like greasepaint and gasoline. She shivered again. Keeping the coat on, she laid down on her bed. The lining of the coat was a slick orange silk that felt amazing on her skin while the wool of the collar and lapels scratched at the bruises around her neck. She wiggled around in the large coat taking great pleasure from the tactile stimulation on her skin and giggling maniacally. Finally, the exhaustion from her eventful night overtook her and she fell asleep. She dreamed of explosions and bruising red kisses.


	10. Chapter 10

"The _morning that I was born again,_  
 _I was made into a beast._  
 _Am I free now, am I at peace?_  
 _Is that the ground below me, or your feet?"_

 _The Beast, Austra_

Harleen woke up the next morning feeling like herself again. She was surprised to find herself saddened by this. When she was 'different', as she was beginning to think of these moments, everything seemed so funny and so much more intense. Except pain she realized looking down at her bruised and bloody palms, pain seemed less intense and more pleasurable to her other self. It didn't seem fair to Harleen that she was left to deal with the clean-up and suffering after the feeling of differentness passed. Speaking of cleaning up she realized she was still laying naked and swaddled in Mr. J's wool overcoat. She took the coat off and folded it up with the rest of his things that she kept all together on a chair in her room. Not a shrine, a chair. Next she went into her bathroom to brush her teeth and look over how the bruises on her neck were doing. Yesterday it was a ring of blue and purple, today it was shades of purple and black, with that heart still visible in the middle. It looked like the perfect BDSM fantasy necklace. Another day in turtle necks then.

She took a long hot shower and found that by the time she was done her hands were cleaned up nicely though still bruised. Unsurprisingly asphalt was not a great surface to do gymnastics on. She dressed and then found herself with nothing to do. She could call up Pete; that would probably make his day, hearing from her again so soon. She wished she could make herself care about Pete. He was exactly the kind of guy Harleen should like but she felt a wave of nausea at the thought of kissing him again. She could be brave and start dealing with why she felt that nausea. It was because he wasn't the one she wanted to be kissing. She allowed her mind to have a moment of freedom to think about what she really wanted to do. She had wished last night she was kissing the Joker. It was wrong, crazy even but if she was honest the idea thrilled her. Thinking about what it would be like to feel his lips on hers and his skin under her hands, she had a moment of vertigo, like she was falling even though she was sitting perfectly still. Shaking her head quickly she wondered at what had just happened. Did just thinking about giving into her desire for the Joker cause her to slip into that state of differentness she'd been feeling?

She had two more days until she would see him next and a great deal of thinking to do. Did she want to keep being Harleen the psychologist who obeyed the law and did normal things such as date normal guys like Pete? If so then the best thing she could do would be to quit working with the Joker and find another job. And probably start seeing a therapist herself. Her other choice seemed to be that she could become this other person Mr. J claimed he could see in her. All she really knew about this other person is that she liked hurting people and she really really liked the Joker. Not exactly personal characteristics Harleen aspired to but this other person felt things so intensely. It was like experiencing a lifetime of sensations and feelings every time this other personality took her over. She needed to make a choice and she had to make it soon because she didn't know how many more times she could be in the same room with the Joker without trying to see if he had any romantic interest in her.

That's how she spent her weekend, thinking over her choices while going about her daily life of chores and errands. Harleen scrubbed the bath tub out as though she were scrubbing the guilt off her conscious. Her different self continued to walk late at night hoping another asshole would come along looking for trouble. No one did, to her disappointment. Harleen made a pros and cons list and her other self set it on fire. Back and forth, to and fro. The only things they could agree on was that ice cream solves all your problems and that sleeping in Mr. J's clothing was a good and comforting thing to do.

Finally Monday came and Harleen prepared to see him again. She still hadn't decided what to do. She was hoping that she'd go into today's session and Mr. J would have decided for her. Maybe today they would just talk about his issues like normal people, no teasing or touching. Or maybe today he would help this other self come out for good. She didn't know which she'd prefer but she knew she'd be happy to let someone else decide. Her bruises were now beginning to fade into various shades of purple and green, his colors. Maybe she should take that as a sign? She had run through her supply of turtle necks so today she wore a scarf to cover her neck. That was the only reason she switched to a scarf, it wasn't because she thought he'd want a peek at his handiwork.

When they brought the Joker in he was already laughing wildly. He kept at it while the guards removed his restraints and left the room. She just watched him. Finally he sobered and looked at her.

"Nice scarf, Doc. I can't wait to see what's under it." He gave her a knowing smile.

"Thank you, Mr. J. How were things here over the weekend? Anything I should know about?" So much for no teasing from him.

"Ah, Doc, you know things don't really vary much from day to day here. The real question is how was your weekend? How was your _date_?" He accented the last t so that it was almost its own word.

"I really don't think that would be appropriate for us to discuss. I notice from the staff reports that you've been more cooperative and less violent with them. That's very good. Have you thought of any appropriate changes you'd like to earn with your good behavior?" Harleen asked in a professional voice.

"I'm not trying to earn treats, Doc. I have my own reasons for the things I do. If you are giving out rewards then I want you to tell me about your date. C'mon, Doc, surely it's worth spilling about it to keep some poor guard from, uh, getting his nose broken?" Alright, she thought, if he wants to play it like that.

"My date went very well, thank you. He showed me around the city a bit and then we had a delicious dinner at a very nice restaurant. Satisfied?" She knew he wouldn't be. His accurate ability to read people was not an exaggeration.

"And then what happened? You're leaving something out, I can tell."

"Anything else that happened was none of your business and please don't start threatening the staff here every time I don't answer your personal questions." She picked up her pen and flipped open her notepad to begin their actual session.

"Now that's not _nice_ , Harlequin. How am I supposed to trust you enough to share my, uh, deepest darkest feelings with you when you hide things from me?" He knew waving the idea of his feelings in front of her was like holding a steak in front of a hungry dog. She flushed deeply at the idea of telling him yet another tale of her assaulting a stranger, especially here in the formal setting of his therapy session.

"Oh, I see, you're a little shy about telling it out loud?" He patted the tops of his legs and said, "Why don't you come sit on Daddy's lap and you can whisper it in my ear?" a wolfish grin split his face while he stared at her waiting to see how she'd respond.

Harleen was barely in control of herself as she stood up and started to walk over to where he sat. Her otherness kept trying to push its way forward and take over. The Joker's face showed a hint of surprise when he saw that she was actually going to take him up on his offer but he spread his arms open as a welcoming gesture anyway. She settled herself across his lap with her hands primly folded in her own. She stared down at her hands rather than look him in the face until he wrapped one arm around her waist and used his other hand to take her chin and tilt her face towards him. He looked into her eyes for a moment.

"Are you two cohabiting today? Or fighting for control?" He seemed amused. She chose to ignore his question, she wasn't sure what the answer was anyway.

"Never mind, tell me what happened. You didn't beat the shit out of that _poor_ police officer did you?" He giggled.

"No, the date went just like I told you but after… I just needed to get out and breathe so I started walking but I guess it was pretty late by then and I wasn't really paying too much attention to where I was going. A man started following me. I tried to get away but he cornered me in an alley." She paused to collect her thoughts. The Joker moved his hand from her chin and stroked her cheek gently.

"Did the bad man hurt my little Harlequin?" He made some sort of tsking sound and shook his head slightly.

"No, I'm fine. I hurt him though. I had to or he was going to rape me." She saw approval in his face. She knew he wanted more details though he didn't say anything.

"I didn't know what to do at first so I kicked him hard right between the legs."

"Ah, I'll bet that barely slowed him down." The Joker had moved his hand down to the scarf around her neck now. He was toying with the ends of it but her flesh was still overly sensitive and she gasped a little. He grinned at her and kept doing it. She looked away in embarrassment and decided go on with her story.

"Yeah, he told me he liked it. But while he was off guard I did a front handspring and pushed him down to the ground."

"And then you ran away as fast as you could like a _good_ little girl?" Without her realizing it he had undone the loose knot of her scarf and was gently sliding it off of her neck.

"No, I mean I was going to but then I saw a two by four just sitting there. So I picked it up and hit him over the head with it."

When the Joker didn't make any comment she looked into his face. His eyes were transfixed by the purple and green marks all over her throat. He ran his fingers gently over the bruises on either side and then pressed firmly into the mark in the center of her throat. An erotic ache shot through her core. Harleen lost whatever control she had and her other self took over completely. He looked into her eyes and chuckled.

"Hello again. I don't suppose you could tell me your name this time?" He asked her other self.

She shook her head no. His hand was still on her throat and it was driving her wild. She giggled a little and then put her hands on either side of his face and started kissing him before he could react to her movements. At first he wasn't kissing her back though he wasn't shoving her away so she took that as a good sign and kept kissing him. After a few seconds he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her closer to him and started returning her kiss passionately. She felt like he was going to devour her. His fingers were bruising her upper arms. When she opened her mouth to him his tongue plunged in and dominated her own. His kiss was so aggressive that she had to relax her mouth and just submit to whatever he did. Unlike Pete his breath was not fresh and minty, his kiss was not "good". He was dirty and overwhelming and she was on fire for him. She slid her hand around to the nape of his neck and his limp tangled curls were there just as she'd been expecting the other night with Pete. She sighed into his mouth and buried both hands in his hair. Then just as suddenly as she had begun the kiss he ended it. He pushed her away from his face and then pulled her hands out of his hair. He looked at her confused face and laughed.

"Sorry about that, but this isn't, uh, working for me." She shifted around a bit on his lap, she could feel his arousal; this was definitely working for him.

"That's not it, Doc. Sure you're beautiful and you're soft and curvy in all the right places but I've always been a one woman kind of guy and let's face it, you're not just one woman right now. You decide who you're going to be, Doc and we'll see where things go from there." She gave him a pleading look and he laughed at her again.

"Is this your version of bargaining, Doc? I choose who you are for you and you'll be a good little girl who _wiggles_ around on Daddy's lap while whispering all her naughty little deeds in his ear?" He grabbed her face with one hand and looked her straight in the eyes and smacked his lips. "Figure it out _your-self_. You've certainly had enough time." He pushed her face away.

"Enough time? It's been a week! One insane week where I don't know who I am half the time and I do things I don't understand!" Harleen was back and she was getting a little hysterical.

" _A week_? Ha ha, ho ho, hee hee! You've had seven years. Every butterfly has to leave their cocoon sometime, Harlequin." Her eyes and mouth were all open in wide circles of surprise. She jumped up off his lap and hurried over to the other side of the table. Her face was red, embarrassed from his rejection.

"I'm not feeling well Mr. J. I'm sure you'll understand if I end our session early today. The guards will be in to get you in a moment." She picked up her things and stared at the wall behind him while she talked to him. She was too angry and embarrassed to look him in the eyes. Harleen rushed past him eager to get away but he reached out and grabbed her by the wrist gently. She swallowed her wounded pride and looked down at him.

"One last thing, Harlequin." He paused and licked his lips. "The right girl for me? She's going to live like I do, with no rules. She's not just going to tag along to, uh, beat the hell out of would be rapists. She's going be there for blowing up hospitals full of "innocent" people too. And she's going to _like it_. Don't bother me with this again unless you're sure that's who you are." It was a warning or a promise depending on which of her personas he was talking to. Tears welled up in her eyes and she hurried out the door.


	11. Chapter 11

_"You better be there when I make my mind up_

 _I know sometimes I kinda lose control."_

 _Good Girl Freak Out, Double Duchess_

Harleen was depressed. She was 'lay in bed crying your eyes out and listening to sad songs on repeat' depressed. Her usual cheer up techniques like watching funny cat videos and romantic movie marathons didn't make a dent in her malaise. Not even Ben and Jerry's helped. She was in a deep dark pit of misery, surrounded by used Kleenexes and a couple of empty wine bottles. Today Billie Holiday was singing "Until the Real Thing Comes Along" over and over to her. Yesterday it had been Roy Orbison crooning "Crying" along with her all day. She hoped she'd die of a broken heart today so she wouldn't have to switch songs tomorrow. Everything had been a blur of sadness and tears since she had left her session with the Joker. Since he had rejected her. The problem wasn't just that she was pining away for Mr. J, she was also struggling to deal with her increasingly troubling mental health issues. The therapist in her was frustrated with her inability to get herself under control.

Despite the Joker acting as though her other self was a separate person Harleen didn't really think that was true. He made it clear that only one version of herself had a shot with him which of course made her want to immediately become that persona so they could be together. She wanted him so badly. It wasn't that simple though. Maybe the Joker had been a fully formed personality who was able to kill off Jack but it was different for Harleen. She felt like there were two distinct aspects of herself but they were both her. It wasn't like dissociative identity disorder where one of them was some man from Georgia who drove a truck and the other was a housewife from Michigan. Still thinking about dissociative identity disorder did give Harleen an idea. The goal of treatment for DID was often to try and integrate the personalities into one. This really wasn't her area of study but if she recalled correctly one of the steps was to engage the alternate personalities. Harleen had some idea of things that brought out her other self: anger, feeling threatened, Mr. J. She needed to learn more about this other persona and she needed to gain control of when she came and went. Maybe if she could integrate both of her selves into one she could be enough of the woman Mr. J wanted without totally having to destroy Harleen. It was a light at the end of the tunnel anyway.

Feeling engaged in this introspective new psychology project was enough to get Harleen out of bed finally. She tried a meditative technique where she called up the feelings she'd had when she had attacked people or when she had interacted with Mr. J in a violent or sexual way. If she focused and really tried she felt like she could hold on to a little of that personality without losing herself in it. Harleen decided to try and make a list of things about her current life this persona seemed to react favorably to. She walked around her apartment looking at everything with new eyes. The apartment itself was sneered at but Harleen wasn't surprised, she wasn't fond of it herself. Her wardrobe brought out maniacal laughter except for a few of her more risqué items. The only things in the apartment that got a positive reaction were the pile of Mr. J's clothes and Harleen's "special friend" in the nightstand drawer. Her other self seemed very in touch with her sexuality. Good for her, Harleen certainly hoped that remained after they integrated.

Her personal property was clearly a disappointment to the other her and Harleen didn't really feel surprised by that. So much of it was just the mundane items you acquired in an average life. Waffle makers and running shoes just weren't that thrilling. Next she decided to make a list of things she thought they had in common. Harleen was a big list maker. She put 'the Joker' across the top in big letters. Gymnastics, sex and pain were added though Harleen was reluctant to admit how much she'd liked touching the bruises Mr. J had given her. They didn't ache anymore and she missed that feeling. After a brief moment of fantasizing about Mr. J's hands wrapped around her throat again, which both personas enjoyed equally, she tried to get back on task. She felt like she'd done as much as she could with the tools at her disposal. She tried think of something that could bring her other self forward. It occurred to her almost immediately. Her other persona had hated her taste in clothes, they could go shopping! That is, _she_ could go shopping. Integration could not come soon enough.

Acting on a hunch about her other's taste she decided to drive down to the punk store she'd seen across the street from the restaurant she'd eaten at with Pete. Harleen was trying to be bring her other self forward as much as she could without things devolving into random acts of violence. In doing so she found that she was distracted from the store by the tattoo parlor across the street. She wandered over to look at the sample images in the window. As she had noted last week the images were of vintage tattoos designs like anchors, mermaids, little birds and flowers, a playing card. Hmm, it was an ace of spades but Harleen thought she'd just go in and ask if they had any other card designs. Of course she wanted a Joker card and they had a selection of designs to choose from. She decided to put it on the outside of her upper right arm and chose a simple black and white design of something demonic looking wearing a jester's hat. She'd never had a tattoo, she thought maybe she'd get a bit of a thrill out of the pain but surprisingly that's not what happened. It seemed like maybe pain only got her excited if it was coming from the Joker. Interesting. The sting of the needle piercing her skin over and over did bring her other persona to the forefront and then the pain dulled quite a bit. Harleen no longer felt like she had total control over her behavior but she did think her input would be considered when making decisions.

After the tattoo Harleen resumed her plan to shop and walked over to the clothing store across the street. It seemed like one stop shopping for all your dark, angry fashion needs. She looked down at her pink sweater set and her dark gray pencil skirt and realized that she didn't exactly blend in here. She looked around the store and decided that it didn't really matter because she was the only customer in the place. Apparently this part of Gotham didn't get much foot traffic at three o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon. She started browsing and picking up things she'd like to try on if this place had a fitting room. The store primarily stocked clothing in shades of red, purple and black. That was ok, red had always been Harleen's color and everyone looked good in black. She decided to stay away from purple, she was trying to think about who she was, not get hung up on thinking about the Joker. Finally she had quite an assortment of things to try on and went looking for someone who worked in the store. She finally found a salesgirl sitting in an arm chair near what must have been the fitting rooms. She was talking to someone on her cell phone. They seemed to be talking about what a bitch someone named Courtney was. Harleen tried to politely get the salesperson's attention. Eventually she resorted to tapping her on the shoulder and the girl finally turned her gaze on Harleen. The young woman looked Harleen up and down and then with a smirk finally spoke to her.

"Something you want, Barbie? Buying a gift for someone or getting a head start on Halloween?" She asked and then started laughing. "There's a Hot Topic over at the mall, I think they're having a sale, you should check it out."

"I just wanted to try a few things on." Harleen answered politely. She heard a giggle in the back of her mind.

"Fuck off, Gotham doesn't need any more posers walking around town. Get the fuck out before you get your ass kicked!" The girl turned back to her phone conversation laughing. Harleen stared at her but when the girl continued to ignore her she walked back out to the main part of the store. She dropped the things she had gathered in a pile on the floor and walked to the door. Before she had the door open another idea occurred to her.

"Time to get chaotic!" She said and laughed hysterically. She clicked the deadbolt on the door into the locked position and turned the open sign around so that from the street the store appeared closed. She looked around at the ceiling and walls of the store, there didn't seem to be any surveillance equipment and the store was still empty. Now she just needed a little something to help make her point to the salesperson. She walked around looking at what was available to her and ended up behind the counter the register was on. She could hear the salesgirl talking to her friend about her.

"You should have seen this yuppie bitch who just came in here trying to buy something. Fuck that. I sent her ass packing."

Aha, perfect! She had found the store's security system. It was a shiny black aluminum bat with a red leather grip. The owner was clearly really committed to a color theme around here. She picked it up and looked it over. It was in good shape, it didn't look like it had seen much action. Poor little thing, she was determined to change that. It had the words "Louisville Slugger" and "Assault XL" printed on it. This led to another burst of giggles from Harleen.

"C'mon, Slugger, let's go get our assault on!" She planted a kiss on the side of the bat and giggled again.

She swung the bat through the air a few times to get a feel for it. It was so light weight, it felt like an extension of her own arm. Now to get down to business. Harleen headed back to where the salesperson was. She was still talking on the phone and not paying any attention to her surroundings. People really were insanely stupid, Harleen thought to herself. This was really a metaphor for Gotham in general. Here they were in the middle of an incredibly dangerous city and they just turned their backs, shut their eyes to what was right in front of them. They didn't even have the ability to tell the dangerous people from the safe ones. And there they all sat, ignorant even when they were about to get their brains bashed in. It was almost a kindness to open their eyes to what was really going on in this town.

"Hey, Punk rock girl!" Harleen yelled knowing how difficult it was to get this person's attention. As soon as the girl looked up she raised the bat.

"What, what are you doing?" The girl asked, fear finally making its way onto her face.

"Harley's at bat and she ain't gonna strike out!" Harleen shrieked and then swung as hard as she could. The bat hit the side of the girl's head with a satisfying "thunk". A few more swings of the bat and it was clear this salesgirl had checked out. The thought sent Harleen into a fit of giggles. In the back of her mind she wondered why killing someone was not having a more somber effect on her. Shouldn't she be throwing up or looking faint or something? She decided to come back to that thought after she was at home.

"Hello… hello, Raven, are you still there? What's happening over there, is that you laughing? Hello..?" A squeaky voice could be heard coming from the cell phone the salesgirl, Raven apparently, had dropped. A couple of good whacks with the bat took care of that.

"Well it took a lickin' but it sure didn't keep on tickin'!" Harleen said aloud with another giggle.

She looked around at the now empty store. It occurred to her she could take anything she wanted. Do anything she wanted. There were no rules right now. She loved it. She skipped back over to the pile of things she had wanted to try earlier. With prices as low as these there was no reason she shouldn't just take it all and try it on at home. She threw everything into a large shopping bag she found behind the counter. She grabbed a second bag and ran around the store laughing and taking anything that appealed to her. Make up, hair dye, combat boots- all of it black and red, into the bag it all went until she had filled it.

Harleen was still enjoying her shopping trip but she knew she should probably move on before someone came by and investigated what was happening in the store. She grabbed her two large shopping bags and started to leave. She paused and went back to pick up the bat she'd used on the salesgirl. She didn't want to leave her new friend behind! She wiped some blood off of it with a Joy Division t-shirt that was hanging nearby and then slid the bat into her bag and covered it with clothes as much as she could. Time to go home and get to get to know herself better.


	12. Chapter 12

_"She tries not to shatter, Kaleidoscope style_  
 _Personality changes behind her red smile"_

 _Christine, Siouxsie and the Banshees_

Harleen arrived home to find someone waiting at her door. She had a moment of fear that somehow she was in trouble for one of her recent assaults but the small red headed man at the door didn't really strike her as police force material.

"Dr. Quinzel?" He asked her when she walked up. He looked her over then rolled his eyes and shook his head a little. "Now I've seen everything." He mumbled to himself.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Quinzel, can I help you with something?" She asked warily.

"Can we talk inside? You're not really going to want the neighbors listening in on this." He didn't seem dangerous and she knew she really was, so she let him in.

"What was it that you wanted to speak to me about?" She sat her bags down but stayed near them in case see needed her bat.

"We have a mutual friend in common. He contacted me today and told me to come by and see you. He said you would be in need of my services soon. My name's Edward Nygma, perhaps he mentioned me?" He looked hopeful.

"No, I'm sorry Mr. Nygma, no one I know has mentioned you to me. If it's the person I'm thinking of then I wouldn't take it personally." She assumed he was talking about Mr. J. She didn't know a lot of people in Gotham and only one who would want his role in something kept quiet.

"Yeah, narcissistic sociopaths are funny that way." Nygma quipped. She just arched an eyebrow and stared at him.

"Don't worry, it's not anything I haven't said to his face before. Fortunately I have a very specialized set of skills that come in handy now and then so there's not much danger of me giving offense."

"Mr. Nygma, may I ask what you meant earlier when you said "Now I've seen everything"? Harleen asked.

"Oh you heard that did you? Well to be honest you just weren't what I was expecting. You don't strike me as being his type." He answered. Suddenly Harleen whipped her bat out of one of her shopping bags and jammed the tip of it into his chest hard enough he was thrown into the nearest wall. She stepped forward and pinned him where he was with the bat.

"Oh yeah, so who is his type then?" A maniacal giggle escaped her lips as she waited for an answer.

"I take it back, you two are perfect for each other. Sorry to give offense. If you could just let me go I really am here to help you out." He looked apologetic and a little afraid, Harleen was pleased to see. She lowered her bat and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"What is it you're here to help with?"

"Anything that can be done with a computer I can do. These days that's pretty much anything worth doing. I believe the service our friend thinks you might be interested in is my digital erasure package. As far as digital information goes I make you disappear. It'll be like there never even was a Doctor Harleen Quinzel. At least not in any digital files. Was he right?" He waited while she thought over what he was offering her. She could definitely see the advantage of doing it and it explained why the police weren't able to match any of the Joker's information to Jack.

"Can I think about it? I'm not sure I'm ready yet."

"Sure. Here, if you decide to do it text the word 'riddle' to this number." He said while handing her a business card with nothing but a phone number on it. "That number's only good for 24 hours, if it takes longer than that for you decide, he'll know how to get ahold of me."

He headed towards the door and then turned back towards her, "Be sure, once it's done there's no going back. If it makes a difference he's never asked me to do this for anyone else besides himself."

"Thanks, that does help." Harleen smiled at him. "No hard feelings about the thing with the bat?"

"I should have been ready for it, you fooled me with the whole sexy psychologist look." He winked at her and walked out the door.

He was a funny looking little man but Harleen thought she might like him. She couldn't help but be excited that Joker had sent him over. This was like the super villain version of an invitation to run off and elope she thought. Why else erase her from all official records? Still, if she did it there was no going back. If he didn't actually want to be with her she might as well be dead as far as the rest of the world was concerned. Of course if he didn't want her she'd rather he just kill her, she was too far gone in her obsession with him to consider living without him. Thinking about the idea he might not want her suddenly made her feel weighed down with worry. She had so much to think about: Mr. Nygma's offer, how little she cared about the fact she had killed someone an hour ago and integrating her two selves. On top of that her tattoo was starting to hurt again. She decided to take some ibuprofen and lay down for a while.

Harley fell asleep quickly and started dreaming though she felt strangely aware of what was happening and in control of her consciousness. Lucid dreaming, she thought this was called. It had happened to her before once or twice. Now she was in her childhood bedroom except it wasn't really. The room was split in half with the dividing line cutting across a child's table she was seated at. She was having a tea party and staring across from her was her other self. Her body and face were still Harleen's but instead of having blond hair her hair was black on one side and red on the other. It was divided down the center into two high pig tails. It was cuter on her than Harleen would have expected. Her face was covered in white grease paint like the Joker wore though more carefully applied. She wore a black mask around her eyes and black lipstick. Her outfit was an absurd pairing of a tiny corset and even tinier shorts, again black on one side and red on the other. Everything on her side of the table and room was dark, black, and morbid while on Harleen's side it was bright, light and pink. Harleen's half of the room was neat and tidy with shelves covered in books and gymnastic trophies. Interestingly the bed was on her side of the room but the closet was on the other. She could see weapons of all sorts spilling out of it and what looked like a hand, a dead person's hand. She stopped trying to see further into the closet and looked at the walls. They were covered in posters but instead of cute images appropriate for a little girl or even pictures of teen heartthrobs they were all posters of the Joker including an image of Harleen and the Joker's brief make out session. She looked back at their table. Each of them had a doll seated next to them, hers looked like Jack, her other had a Joker doll instead. Finally she looked back up at her other self and decided she should say something.

"Hello." It wasn't much but what she wasn't sure what else to say, she wasn't expecting to be having tea with her own alter ego.

"Hiya, Harleen! Seemed about time we had a little chat, dontcha think?" She replied, with a giggle. Her voice sounded similar to Harleen's but a little higher pitched and breathier. More childish.

"Um, sure. That's kind of what I've been trying to do today, listen to what you had to say. Do you have a name?"

"Harlequin, of course!" She said laughing again.

"But that's Mr. J's name for me or us I suppose." Harleen frowned.

"Whatever my Puddin' calls me, that's my name." She crossed her arms as though daring Harleen to challenge that.

"You call Mr. J Puddin'? I don't think he's going to like that very much." She smiled at the thought of someone calling the Joker by such a silly nickname.

"At least it's creative. You're so boring most of the time Harleen." Harlequin whined at her.

"Look, I don't want to fight with you, call him whatever you want. Just don't blame me if he kills us for any sappy nicknames you start calling him. Let's talk about why we're really here. You know I want to integrate, are you going to go along with that or are you going to fight me on it?"

"Well, I can't say I'm real thrilled by the idea but I think it might be our best choice. I mean I thought about just killin' ya off and takin' over but I think we might be more useful to Puddin' if ya stick around. We gotta agree to some terms though, I'm not gonna to go around kissin' any more muscle bound cops!"

"Don't worry, I don't want that either." Harleen shuddered a little at the thought. "What do you suggest for terms?"

"First of all we gotta do anything and everything Puddin' tells us to! We have to live for him and we have to be willing to die for him! He needs that, even if he doesn't know it." Harlequin's face was strained with passion as she expressed her most fervent desire.

"I don't disagree exactly but I'd alter it a bit. Sometimes we're going to have to disobey him to keep him safe. He's a sociopath, he has no regard for his own safety. He might tell us to do things that will get him hurt. Also I think if we're too obedient he might get bored with us." Harleen speculated.

"I promise he'll never find me boring. Can't be sure about you though." Harlequin smirked at her.

"Yeah but it's not going to be you and me, it'll be us. Just trust me. How about we say we will be loyal, loving and true to Mr. J and protect him above and beyond all other things? Is that good enough for you?"

"Yeah, that sounds pretty good. What else? There must be some stuff you want to say, you're always worrying and over thinking everything."

"Well, I think we've got to come to an agreement about this whole killing and violence thing." She hesitated and Harlequin jumped in before she could finish her thought.

"You heard what he wants Harleen, don't try to back out of it now. You killed someone an hour ago and you don't even feel a little bit bad about it so don't try foolin' me, sister!"

"No, I know. I'm not saying we have to stop, I just think we need some limitations and I feel pretty sure you don't have any. How about we agree that any violence Mr. J approves is ok but otherwise you have to try and keep it under control a little? We can't just go around killing everyone we meet. Mr. J wouldn't like it and it's just going to make things harder for us." Harleen reasoned.

"I don't like it but ok, I agree." Harlequin's face brightened after that as though she had just had a brilliant idea. "Third term, I get to choose our clothes. Puddin' needs someone who looks like she belongs at his side, not someone dressed like a sexy librarian."

Looking Harlequin up and down Harleen started shaking her head, "No, no, no. No way. I'm not dressing like that! Look at you, you're barely even covered!"

"I compromised on the first two, it's your turn!"

"Ok, how about this, we can go with your aesthetic but it has to be more practical than what you're wearing now. I mean if you want to prance around like that when you're alone with Mr. J ok but not out in public. Can you even do a cartwheel in that without giving the world a free show?" Harleen raised her head a little and looked superior. Harlequin wanted to smack her.

"Conceding that you have more experience with gravity and its effects on wardrobe I'll cover up a little more in public but I still get to choose what we wear."

"Ok." Harleen begrudgingly agreed. "Anything else? How about a name? We can't use both of them."

"Harlequin, it's what Puddin' calls us and that's all that matters." Harlequin argued stubbornly.

"No, it should be something new. Let's see… not Harleen, not Harlequin. I know, Harley Quinn!" Her eyes lit up.

"But Harley was what _he_ called you. It might make my Puddin' angry if we use it." Harlequin bit her lip and looked concerned. Harleen did the same and for a moment they looked like bizarre reflections of one another. It was true, the only one who ever called her Harley was Jack. It still felt like the right name though.

"I don't think he will, not if it's Harley Quinn. We called ourselves Harley back at the store. I think that's who we really are when we work together on something. Didn't that feel like for the first time we were both doing what we wanted. Well other than when we kissed Mr. J." She blushed a little thinking about it.

"I still like Harlequin better but Harley Quinn's pretty close. I can live with it. Partners?" She reached her hand across the table to shake hands. Harleen reached out to do the same and as soon as their hands met she woke up.

"Wow! Did that really happen?" Harley laid in bed for a minute thinking over the dream. For the first time in two weeks she felt centered, not conflicted at all. She had accepted both sides of herself. It was done. She picked up her cell phone and sent a text. There was no going back now.


	13. Chapter 13

_"I've been walking with the devil_  
 _He said that "I can make you good and strong"_  
 _I replied I'm yours if you just guide my heart"_

 _Devil, Bondage Fairies_

On Thursday morning Harley Quinn knew that Harleen Quinzel was expected to provide the Joker with a therapy session. She toyed with the idea of going but decided it might be risky. If she wasn't able to enough like Harleen now that she had integrated her personas the guards might become suspicious of her and ruin her plans for later. Because tonight she was breaking the Joker out of Arkham. She knew he could probably walk out anytime he wanted but for some reason he seemed to want her to come get him. Perhaps it was a way of proving her intentions to him. Whatever his reasoning she was happy to do it, excited even. She did manage to sound like Harleen long enough to call in sick for her. She promised to be in the next morning to make up the session. She hung up the phone quickly so she could giggle and think about what she really planned to be doing with the Joker tomorrow morning.

When she finally settled down and got out of bed she started to prepare for tonight's adventure. She had plenty of time but there really was a lot to do. The first thing was to begin her physical transformation into Harley Quinn. First she dyed her hair. She had originally planned to dye it half black and half red like the Harlequin's had been but then she thought better of it. She put her hair in pig tails and dyed each pigtail about halfway up with her black and red dyes. She didn't know what sort of lifestyle she'd be living with the Joker but she didn't want to have to constantly be touching up her roots in between bank heists and murder sprees. Besides, it looked really cute this way.

Next she had to decide what to wear. She had tried everything from yesterday's haul on and found that most of it fit and the things that didn't were just extremely tight or short and revealing, nothing she couldn't work with there. She would take it all with her when she ran off with the Joker but choosing what he saw her in for the first time was difficult. She finally decided on a blend of irresistibly sexy with practical for combat. Her top was a black tight fitting tank style shirt that laced in the front and buckled at the shoulders. The trim all around the edges and at the seams was red. It had a low scoop neck that made her cleavage look amazing. It would be impossible for anyone attracted to women to look away from her chest in this shirt. She paired it with a red A-Line latex shirt that was barely long enough to cover her ass. The loose fit would make it easy to kick or flip but it was still sexy as hell. From there down practical kicked in. She added thick tights that had one red leg and one black leg and chose combat boots of each color alternating on opposite sides from the tights. The final touch was a pair of padded black leather fingerless gloves to prevent her hands from being bruised if she tried anymore gymnastics on hard surfaces. She was pleased with the results.

She spent the rest of her time pampering herself as though she was going on a date that night. She took a long bubble bath while listening to her favorite songs. The Joker had said he wasn't motivated by creature comforts and she thought it was possible that she would be doing without them herself most of the time. She wanted to enjoy them while she could. When the water had turned cold and her fingers and toes were all pruney she pulled herself out of the bath and got dressed. She looked in the mirror and contemplated what to do with her face. Once again she decided to modify the Harlequin's more extreme look. She put a layer of Goth white foundation on her face but it was sheer enough that her own natural skin tone was somewhat visible. She definitely wasn't going to wear a mask, that was too corny, but she did smudge black eye shadow around her eyes in a look halfway between smoky and messy. The black would probably migrate and get messier with time but that was ok, more like the Joker's look. She finished her make up off with a red lipstick that she thought would blend well with what the Joker wore. She planned on them doing a lot of kissing and that wasn't going to work as well if they had clashing lip colors. She giggled at the thought.

Harley packed her clothes and the Joker's things into a large duffle bag. She took one last look around her apartment for anything she couldn't live without. She opened her jewelry box and took out Harleen and Jack's wedding bands. She knew she should leave them behind, she was sure the Joker would be mad at her for keeping them but she couldn't help herself. She put them on a long chain and hid them deep in her cleavage where no one would see them. Now she was really ready to say goodbye to it all. She took a box of kitchen matches and went from room to room setting things on fire. By the time she got to the sofa it was starting to get smoky in the apartment and she had to leave quickly. She threw her duffle and bat in her car and drove to a parking lot across the street where she waited to be sure the apartment was truly going to be destroyed before she left. It didn't take long before thick black smoke and bright fire could be seen engulfing her little apartment. Everything burns, even your past can go up in flames.

She felt a little nervous driving over to Arkham. Harley wasn't worried about taking out the guards or getting the Joker out, only that somehow he would still find her wanting and after tonight she'd never see him again. She tried keeping her breathing slow and even and focused on her driving. Because the Joker had been so well behaved lately Arkham Asylum had settled into an actual routine for the first time since he was imprisoned there. The night shift was six guards and one member of the emergency medical personnel. One guard would be stationed at the front gate, one at the security desk just inside the door and the rest were to remain in the maximum security wing at all times. They usually hung out in the staff lounge because it was as far from the Joker as they could get and still stay in the wing. She didn't know who was specifically working tonight and she couldn't claim to know everyone on staff well but they had all seen her in the facility at one time or another and would inclined to see her as an ally rather than a threat. Her plan was to take out the two guards at the front of Arkham and then improvise from there based on who she came across. The medical staff member was the real wild card. They could be in the infirmary or in the lounge, she'd deal with it when she got there.

The guard working the gate she saw as she approached in her car was Steve, she did know him vaguely. He was an alright guy, stared at her a little too long at times. He should be easy to take out. She stopped her car a few feet away from the guard booth and climbed out, holding her bat close to her body and out of Steve's sight. Steve left his booth and started approaching her cautiously.

"Hey, Steve! It's just me! I was on my way to a party near here but I'm still new enough to Gotham that I got turned around and I'm not sure the best way to go. I thought if I stopped by here you might be able to help point me in the right direction." She smiled at him and tried to look like a perfectly innocent psychologist who got lost on the mean streets of Gotham.

"Oh, hi Dr. Quinzel. I didn't recognize you at first, that's quite a get up!" Steve replied with approval in his voice. His eyes never moved past her cleavage. "Where is it you're trying to get to?"

She had brought a piece of paper with an imaginary set of directions on it but it wasn't necessary to even bother with it. She got within swinging rang of him and raised her bat. He still hadn't looked up from her chest and he was starting to drool a little.

"Hey, Steve! My eyes are up here!" She yelled. He looked up to her face then but only saw her black aluminum bat just before it smacked full force into his face. While he was clutching his nose and screaming she wacked both of his knee caps which caused him to fall onto his back. He was screaming and flailing about. She took pity on him and kept all the other hits to his head until he wasn't moving at all. One down.

She went into the guard's booth and pushed the button that opened the gates and then drove her car through them. She parked directly in front of the doors and could already see the guard at the front door standing up and looking curiously at who could possibly be pulling up at Arkham at this hour. It was important that she charm her way into the building because she knew the doors were locked down tight and there was no way she could pound through the laminated glass without drawing the attention of all the other guards. Harley jumped out of her car and knocked on the front door. The guard came near, assuming that whoever was knocking had the right to be there since they made it past Steve. Through the glass she could see that it was Carlos at the desk. He was a nice older man who was always very polite to her. She almost felt bad about what she had to do but he was one of the last few things standing between her and the Joker. Not just the man himself but also what he represented. The seemingly innocent people that would need to die if this city was ever going to wake up to what was really going on. The Joker wanted to run this town and that wasn't going to happen without a lot more people dying.

"Well hello, there Dr. Quinzel. I sure didn't recognize you in that outfit." Carlos said politely and without ogling her. Harley was very tempted to tell him to just run, get out of here and don't look back. She knew if she did that the Joker would see that little part of her clinging to society's imaginary morals. She had to do this.

"Yeah I feel a little silly in it but a friend was having a themed birthday party, Saints and Sinners. Guess which one I am?" She asked with a sweet giggle. "I was on my way home but I was in the neighborhood and I just wanted to run into my office quickly. I forgot that Dr. Schultz wants a report about the Joker's progress on his desk first thing in the morning and I really need to pick up some notes from our last session."

"Ok, Doctor, come on in. Just don't go down to see the prisoner dressed like that, goodness knows what sort of trouble we'd have on our hands then." He stood back a little to let her pass. She decided to make this fast. It was the only kindness she could really show him. While his back was turned to relock the door she clubbed him over the head with her bat, he took a second blow to the front side of his head as he smacked into the glass from the force of her blow. He was already unconscious and he died without ever really knowing what happened.

"Sorry about that, Carlos. I know you're just another poor sucker in this lousy world but you didn't die for nothin'. Mr. J's going to make the world a better place, just you wait and see." She told his corpse in an apologetic tone while she grabbed his ring of keys from his hand. She'd need them to get it the maximum security wing.

Now Harley was coming to the most dangerous part of her plan. There were five people between her and the Joker. Her first two kills had gone just as she had planned them. Yeah, yeah, she had a plan. Not everyone could just know everything like Mr. J. Ok, she could charge into the staff lounge and surprise the guards but she'd probably be tazed before she could even take one of them out. She found herself wishing she'd brought a gun but she really had no idea how to use one. She'd probably end up shooting herself accidentally. She shook that thought away, it didn't matter, she didn't have a gun so it was pointless to wish otherwise. She did have an idea though. She thought about Mr. J and her taking the guards out together. Together, she sighed dreamily. The idea thrilled her and she thought Mr. J would like it too. She just needed to sneak past the room, easy enough to do since they were usually caught up in watching TV or playing cards. Then she needed to get to the infirmary and see if anyone was in there or not. She'd take out the nurse on duty and then it was straight to the Joker's cell. Straight into the arms of her Puddin'! She let out a little squeak of joy at the thought.

Getting past the staff lounge was as easy as expected. When she neared the infirmary she could see the nurse was inside. She didn't know what his name was. Unlike the guards she had no real reason to encounter the medical staff at Arkham. Well she supposed Harleen would have had reason to see them after the Joker had strangled her but she hadn't. She'd kept that all to herself. Thinking of that session strengthened her resolve. She had an idea. She was fairly certain that the medical staff had taken to carrying a strong sedative preloaded into a syringe to deal with the Joker's violent attacks on the staff. Now it was possible that they had stopped doing so now that the Joker hadn't hurt anyone in the last two weeks so she was taking a chance. If she was wrong she was sure she could improvise something. How could she be with the Joker if she couldn't even take out one lousy nurse on her own? She swiped some blood off the side of her bat and ran it down the inside of her arm as though she'd been injured. She propped her bat up against the wall outside the door and barged into the clinic.

"Nurse, please help, I've cut my arms and it's bleeding quite a lot!" She tried her best to sound panicked. The nurse, like any good medical professional immediately started attending to what seemed to be a bleeding wound without questioning who she was or why she was there.

"Just calm down, Ma'am. I'll get you taken care of in no time. Now just sit up on the table and I'll clean the wound a little and see what we're dealing with." He rolled a tray of first aid supplies over to the medical table she had hopped up on. He started cleaning her "wound" and she could see the syringe she was hoping to find in the pocket of his scrubs top. Perfect. As he swabbed blood off her arm and saw no injury underneath he began to look confused. He looked up at her and she grinned evilly. She grabbed his head and rammed her knee into his nose. Blood started pouring out. She let go of his head and grabbed the syringe in his pocket. Quickly popping off the cap with her thumb she jammed the needle into the side of his neck, pressing down on the plunger. He stared at her and tried to move away but before he got very far his eyes crossed and he swayed into a heap on the ground. The sedative was strong enough it would probably kill him. The Joker had a crazy high immunity to drugs and to knock him out quickly they gave him four times the normal dose. Still Harley felt she should be sure. Time for Slugger to come out and play again. And then? Then she and Puddin' would be together forever.

"Don't you just love a happy ending?" Harley asked the unconscious nurse as she brought the bat down on his face.


	14. Chapter 14

_"She's a mountaineer of love_  
 _She's climbing Mount Fuji_  
 _Nothing but a Kenzo kimono on_  
 _Carrying a Hello Kitty Uzi"_

 _So Desu Ne, FFS_

The Joker was walking back and forth across his cell. It wasn't pacing. He wasn't worried or thinking something over, he just couldn't sit still. Sometimes he would walk around in circles or zig zag back and forth. Maybe he was a little anxious. He hadn't done anything destructive in two weeks. Well not exactly, but breaking the Doc out of the little cocoon she was stuck in didn't really count. Other than that he'd been a model prisoner, actually following all the little rules they had for him. It made his skin crawl. He hoped she appreciated what he was doing for her, how restrained he's been to make what she had to do easier for her. If she didn't he'd just have to teach her a little gratitude when they got out of here. He shook his head in amusement, there'd be no need. By now her obsession would have grown to the point where she was grateful to him for the very air she breathed. That made him laugh.

He hadn't heard her come down the hallway, she wasn't wearing Dr. Harleen Quinzel's clicky clacky shoes. He caught a glimpse of her though before she made it all the way to his door, she was a slinking presence in black and red. She pulled the door open, she must have known he'd be waiting for her tonight. His Harlequin was doing such a good job of opening up her eyes to the world. It would be such a relief to have someone else in his life who could see the things he could. The joke this world had become wasn't as funny with no one to laugh with. He thought Batman would be that someone, that Batman would complete him. He still believed he needed Batman; that the two of them would be locked forever in a battle for the soul of this city but he no longer thought Batman would ever get the joke. Now he thought that even when he got Batman to break his last rule, even when he got him to see this world as it really is, Batman would cry instead of laugh. It didn't matter, he'd still be a lot of fun and Joker would have his Harlequin there to laugh right along with him.

He slowly took in his first look at who his Harlequin had become. Harleen had always been a beautiful woman but it was a perfect sort of beauty that left an empty feeling behind when he looked at her. She was like a doll, all the features flawless but no life in her eyes. It made him want to break her, mar her perfection. Now his Harlequin was just right. She looked powerful and desirable, there was a wildness flickering in her eyes that hadn't been there before. He loved it, he loved her. She'd keel over and die if he told her that, which would actually be a pretty good joke. He might be a sociopath but he still had feelings. Granted murderous rage and a gleeful disdain for humanity were the most common ones but he was capable of others.

He had gone so long without speaking after she entered the room that she was starting to look nervous and was biting her bottom lip. That was troubling, he thought for certain sweet little Harleen would be long gone when his Harlequin came for him. She still stood in the doorway waiting for him to address her. It was time to find out exactly what was going on.

"Hello, Harlequin." He purred. "I was expecting you to come alone tonight but I feel like you may still have a little tagalong with you. I'm feeling a little, uh, _disappointed_."

"I'm not Harlequin or Harleen. Or I guess I'm both really, we integrated. I felt liked you deserved everything I could give you so I'm here to give you everything I have. Which as of about an hour ago is just me, the rest of it's probably a smoldering pile of ashes. Assuming the fire department has managed to put out the building by now. I'm not sure though, it was a pretty big fire." She started giggling hysterically but then covered her mouth with her little hand in an attempt to stop. That just made her giggle more uncontrollably and he couldn't help but join in with her.

"I wish I could have seen it, _baby's first fire_." He smacked his lips and shook his head a little. He hadn't even had to tell her to destroy everything she left behind, she'd just known.

"Well let's get out of here and I can give you an instant replay." She winked at him. She was apparently no longer nervous.

"So what do I call you? I assume you chose a new name." He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd ask him to choose one though he would have thought less of her for it.

She dropped the bag and baseball bat she was carrying and took a running leap at him, nearly knocking him over. He didn't have a chance to try to catch her but there she was stuck to him like a burr with her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist.

"Hiya Puddin'! It's me, your Harley Quinn!" She exclaimed and then pressed her lips fiercely to his. He returned her kiss for a moment and then pulled away.

"I like your name Harley, but don't _ever_ call me Puddin' again." He told her sternly. She looked up at him, her eyes wild with lust, and gave him a dizzy nod. He managed to untangle himself from her limbs, ignoring her despondent look. He understood how she felt, she'd awakened desires in him that he'd almost forgotten he'd ever had but he wasn't consummating their relationship in Arkham. He hated this place, what he wouldn't give for explosives to set off on their way out.

"So, uh, how did you get back here dressed like that, surely one of the guards tried to stop you?" He asked with a casual tone. He knew the answer but he wanted her to say it. He needed to hear it.

"Oh that was easy, I just killed everyone I came across. If I know Arkham's routine there are still four guards hanging out in the staff lounge. I saved them for last, I thought it would be fun if we could kill them together." She smiled up at him shyly. He took it for the romantic gesture she had meant it to be and gave her a quick kiss but ducked away before she could try to escalate things. He looked over at the things she'd dropped in his doorway. The bat was shiny and wet, blood he assumed.

"What's in the bag?"

"I brought your clothes. I managed to steal most of them when I was at the police station last week. I couldn't sneak out your shoes so I brought some others. I got some of your knives too, as many as I could manage. Oh and I brought some grease paint, I was sure you'd want that." She dragged the bag into the cell and started laying everything out on his cot for him. He noticed she had tattooed a Joker card on her arm. She had permanently marked herself as his. He knew every thought Harleen had before she'd had it but his Harlequin was full of surprises.

"Harley, you've really _exceeded_ my expectations." She looked so proud of herself he thought for a minute she might cry. He couldn't help but laugh at her. She looked confused but then laughed too. He loved hearing her laugh. He picked up his shirt and noticed it had an odd smell. He brought it up to his nose, not odd, delicious. The smell of her skin and something fruity, probably her soap or lotion. She'd been sleeping in his shirt. Seeing him smell the shirt, she blushed.

"Mmm, smells like ripe strawberries. I'll have to start sending all my laundry to the GCPD." He said with smirk. Her blush deepened but she had a dreamy little smile on her face.

He started pulling off his Arkham issued patient scrubs and heard Harley gasp at the sight of his naked chest he looked over at her and found she had turned away and gone to pick up her bat. He laughed at her need to distract herself while he was undressed. He decided not to torment her and quickly pulled on his pants and shirt. By the time she turned around he was putting on his grease paint. He looked to see if she had any reaction to his face, this was the first time he looked like himself in her presence. If she'd fallen for him because his face looked the same as her dead husband's she was in for a rude awakening. There was no confusion or fear on her face as she looked at him, just that same love sick gaze. He gave her an exaggerated wink that drew another giggle out of her before he turned around to finish dressing. She picked his Arkham shirt up and used it to wipe the guard's blood off her bat. It was just going to get bloody again but he was happy to see her showing respect for her weapon. She seemed drawn to delivering blunt force trauma in the same way he preferred cutting someone up. Perhaps he'd let the guards choose their method of death or maybe he'd just sit back and watch Harley beat them senseless. He didn't need help getting excited around her but why deny himself such a treat? He started tucking knives into various pockets. She'd only brought a few but it would do for now.

When he was nearly finished dressing he saw that she was watching him and swinging her bat around in little circles while humming a mad little melody to herself. She was as pretty as a picture. He signaled for her to come to him which she did without hesitation. He gestured to the loose tie around his neck and she immediately began tying it for him. It was clear she was delighted to be trusted to do it. He looked down at her and smiled. That's when he noticed a silver chain that ended somewhere down in her cleavage. Now what could be hidden down there? He pulled the chain out until the treasured items were revealed. Jack and Harleen's wedding bands. He looked into her eyes but didn't allow any emotion to show on his face. She looked up at him with fear on her face and bit her lip.

"It was all I kept, I swear! I just couldn't leave them but if you want me to get rid of them I..." Before she could finish he pulled down hard and broke the chain that was around her neck. Holding it up, he looked at the rings again. He pulled them off the chain and grabbed her left hand. He shoved the women's band onto the appropriate finger and then pushed the men's band onto his own ring finger. He didn't say a word, he just left her standing there with her mouth gaping open. He started laughing loudly and turned away from her to pull on his purple leather gloves. He turned back to her and pushed her chin back up to close her mouth. She stepped back a bit and was still looking at him like he'd suddenly grown a second head. Then she shook her head as though trying to clear her mind and pulled some fingerless gloves out of the waistband of her skirt and put them on.

"Well, Mrs. J, are we going to go kill those guards or just stand around here until they die of old age?" He was still chuckling but started emitting high pitched titters when her eyes bugged out a bit at the words Mrs. J. She was so fun to play with, his Harley girl.

She swallowed and then put a big smile on her face. "Let's go have some fun, Puddin'!"

He reached out and grabbed her by the arm to pull her closer. With his face in hers he flicked out his Cupid OTF knife and held it near her mouth.

"Don't call me Puddin' again or I will hurt you, Harley." He growled at her. She smiled up at him and then extended her tongue. He watched as she licked her way up the flat back of the knife. His mind clouded with desire and he let go of her arm.

"Don't threaten me with a good time…" She purred, still maintaining eye contact while she quickly backed away from him. "Puddin'!" She finished and then stuck out her tongue before she ran out the cell door and started cartwheeling down the hall while giggling hysterically.

His mouth curled into a wide grin and his eyes danced with merriment. He started stalking after her adding his maniacal laughter to hers. Together they created a chorus of lunacy that bounced and echoed off the walls. The guards would hear it and be expecting him but they wouldn't be expecting her. No one would be expecting her. And here we go…


End file.
